Gifts, Given and Received
by Josephine Martin
Summary: Now Complete! Very AU. Angelus never got a soul. He never met Buffy. There was no Initiative, no chip and no Dawn. BuffySpike centred, but there will be reference to various others, inc. same sex pairings. Reference to violence including sexual.
1. Chapter 1 - Dreams and Reality

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Disclaimer: The main characters in this story belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Wheddon. I love them, and like to play with them. The story has no commercial purpose.

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Summary: Angelus never got a soul. He never met Buffy, at least not before the time of this story. There was no Initiative, no chip and no Dawn. Buffy met Spike for the first time at about 21. Buffy/Spike centred, but there will be reference to Spike/Dru, Dru/Angelus, Angelus/Darla, Angelus/Spike, Buffy/Riley, and Giles/Jenny. Not for Angel fans.

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Rating: R or 18. There will be reference to sexual activity and violence (including violence of a sexual nature), although I intend to leave the details to your imagination. This story will probably be quite dark.

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Feedback: Yes, please. Review or Email me at cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk

I will use italics to show dreams or something written. If that's hard to read, let me know and I'll try something else.

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Gifts Given and Received

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By Josephine Martin

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Chapter 1 - Dreams and Reality

November 2007

There were three dreams which recurred. Two were familiar memories. The first was of the day Dru had killed him. He had been miserable. The love of his life had told him he was beneath her and his heart was breaking. Then a beautiful woman stepped from the shadows, beckoning him closer.

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"I want to give you a gift," she whispered, her voice full of promise. 

At first, he thought she was a prostitute with a new line, but there was something in her face, in her eyes, that beckoned him. He couldn't resist and felt his feet moving towards her, entranced. When he reached her, she pulled him closer, holding him to her. He looked into her eyes and saw … love.

"What is your name, my love?" she whispered.

He was almost unable to speak, such was the rapture he felt, but he managed to croak a single word. "William."

"Oh, my William. You will be my William? I am going to give you a gift - such a wonderful gift. And some day, I may ask that you return my gift. Promise me, when I ask you, that you will return it."

At that moment, he could have denied her nothing, such was her power over him.

"I promise," he whispered.

"Good boy," she crooned, moving his head to have better access to his neck. With that, her face had changed and she had plunged her fangs into his neck.

Although the dream was of his death, it wasn't a bad dream. He always awoke from it, muttering her name - Dru - and feeling aroused, but unsatisfied. On this night, he snuggled closer to the sleeping form at his side. He wouldn't wake her to assuage his need. There would be plenty of time for that when they woke.

He slept again quickly, and immediately started to dream.

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He saw her in the alleyway, just as he had that night. Of course he had seen her before. Many times. He had been watching and waiting for such a long time, and he knew this was his opportunity. There was something about her that evening. She didn't want to go on. Death had caught up with her, and she belonged to him, just as the other two Slayers he had killed. They fought. He could still remember every move they made. Every kick, every punch, every feint, every jump. It was glorious. It was poetry. But in the end, she was his. He held her against the wall, temporarily dazed by a blow to the head. He changed and started to drink. He immediately noticed the difference. She was embracing death. She was embracing him. She was pulling herself closer to him. The combination of her blood and her body was overwhelming. 

He had never taken a woman as he drank from her before. It wasn't his style. It was the way Angelus did things, but not him. But he knew nothing could stop him this time. The way she was responding to him was more arousing even that the taste of her blood, and the blood of a Slayer was always an aphrodisiac. He removed the clothing between them, and took her. She responded to him as he moved, her sounds mingling with his as he drained her lifeblood and satisfied the lust that filled them both.

As she slumped in his arms, all but dead, but sated, he had known that he couldn't let her go. The only thing in his mind was his need for this woman. He slit his own wrist and made her drink from him. When she had finished, he carried her tenderly away to somewhere they could be alone.

The dream ended, but this time he didn't waken. Instead, the scene in his mind flitted to the third of his recurring dreams. This was the one he dreaded. 

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The three of them were together as they had never been in reality. He stood with the two women he loved, but loved in such different ways. On his right, stood his Slayer, his Buffy, his life. On his left stood Dru, his Sire. They had been together for so long, and he had loved and cared for his crazy beautiful Dru, but the Slayer had changed all of that. He would always love his Sire, but it was the bond between them that made it so. He knew that. He cared for her and he wanted to protect her, even though the one thing she needed protection from was the one thing she loved more than him. Her Sire, Angelus.

As Buffy watched, Dru called him to her, as she had that first night.

"Come to me, my William," she crooned.

Unable to stop himself, he moved towards her.

"Do you remember, my love, that night? The night when I gave you this gift?"

He reached her and she held him to her as she whispered in his ear. He put his arms around her, holding her close.

"I remember," he answered.

"It's time, my William. I said I would ask you to return my gift. It's time now."

He pulled away far enough to see in her eyes. In them, there was only love, but he stiffened when he felt the stake in her hand, held between their bodies and felt it piercing his skin.

He awoke panting in terror. That dream always had that effect. He opened his eyes to find Buffy watching him sleepily, her arms holding him tight, doing her best to make him feel safe.

"That dream?" she asked.

Unable to speak, he nodded and burrowed closer to her as she held him tight. His reaction to that dream had always puzzled him. He didn't fear his end so much that it should have had that effect on him. The only reason he had for fearing it was the way it would affect Buffy, but he knew that without her Sire, she would be free to live as she wished. He never really believed that her love was real. It was there because of the bond, just as his was for Dru. He knew he was a coward, that he should end his life for her, but he loved her too much to leave her. She was his everything.

When the sun set, they left their cottage. It was so beautiful there. The water of Loch Maree was dark, but glittered like a many faceted jewel in the moonlight. They ran together, hand in hand over the sand, laughing together with the joy they felt at being together. She stumbled, pulling him down as she fell, and they lay like that, holding each other closer, kissing until their passion grew and they made love under the stars.

Much later, they lay there watching the celestial show. The Northern Lights were flashing a rainbow of colour across the sky as they watched. Spike knew that this was as good as it got. And he knew that he didn't deserve it. As they lay there, the clouds started to cover the sky and rain started to fall. They ran back to their croft, already soaked to the skin. The early evening had been a bonus. November in north west Scotland wasn't renowned for its weather - unless it was for rain, of course. There were other advantages, though. The short day meant that they could be outside much more than elsewhere, and the cold and rain didn't really bother them. The running back to the croft was part of the game, part of pretending they were a normal couple. 

They were still some way off from the croft when they saw that the loch had encroached into the land and that some sheep were trapped. The tide was coming in, and it would be only a matter of time before they drowned. The sheep were their source of food, and a valuable resource. Sending Buffy on ahead, Spike waded out into the icy water to rescue the sheep. 

Seven sheep later, and Spike was wading back into the loch. Instantly, he felt her terror and pain. He left the sheep and ran back to the croft at full speed, but he was too late. Inside the croft was a scene of devastation. Furniture was overturned, and a knife had been taken to anything that would rip, but the most devastating thing in the room was the pool of blood which had been left on the floor. Spike dipped his finger into it and brought it to his mouth. There, for the first time, he tasted the mingled blood of his childe and his Sire, and he knew what had happened. Angelus had taken her.


	2. Chapter 2 - Desolation and Helplessness

**Disclaimer**: The main characters in this story belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Wheddon. I love them, and like to play with them. The story has no commercial purpose.

**Summary:** Angelus never got a soul. He never met Buffy, at least not before the time of this story. There was no Initiative, no chip and no Dawn. Buffy met Spike for the first time at about 21. Buffy/Spike centred, but there will be reference to Spike/Dru, Dru/Angelus, Angelus/Darla, Angelus/Spike, Buffy/Riley, and Giles/Jenny. Not for Angel fans.

**Rating:** R or 18. There will be reference to sexual activity and violence (including violence of a sexual nature), although I intend to leave the details to your imagination. This story will probably be quite dark.

**Feedback:** Yes, please. Review or Email me at cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk

I will use italics to show dreams or something written. If that's hard to read, let me know and I'll try something else.

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**_Chapter 2 - Desolation and Helplessness_**

He sat for some time, following her in his mind. She was unconscious, and he knew she was surrounded. If he had sensed only Angelus, he would have followed, even though he knew the risks of that action. Angelus had brought several others of the clan with him, and although Spike couldn't sense them well enough to put names to them, he recognised the 'family' signature. He and Buffy had been isolated since he had changed her, yet he knew he needed help. As the sun rose, Spike got up from his place on the floor and dragged himself to the bed they had shared. He wrapped himself in the scent of her and tried to sleep. He had had an idea of someone who might be able to help, but he suspected that to ask would result in a stake in his heart. He hoped that after sleep, something better would have occurred to him.

He had the same dreams that night, and awoke in the early afternoon shaking from the last of them. It felt so real. He could almost hear Dru calling to him. He got up, washed and dressed in clean clothes. He threw a few things into his car, and headed out. The sun was low enough in the sky, and the sky overcast enough that he didn't have to worry about combustion. It took a while, but he eventually arrived at the small hotel. He had met very little traffic on the road. He entered the bar of the hotel and looked around. It was quiet, but he knew it would fill up rapidly during the evening. It had always amused him in this part of the world. It was sparsely populated, and you could go for days without seeing anyone - especially in their isolated little croft - but places like this became busy with locals in the evening. In summer there was the tourist trade, but at this time of year, it would just be the local, Gaelic speakers. He ordered a drink and waited.

He had spotted the man in this place before. There was something about him that told Spike that he was recognised. That initially worried the vampire, but the man made no move to do anything but watch, so Spike had left well alone. After that, he spotted the tall, ginger haired highlander around from time to time. Not wanting any surprises, he had done some investigation of his own. Since their effective exile, Spike had managed to get his hands on a computer and had been quite competent in his use of the Internet. It took a while, but he had eventually been able to identify the man as Alasdair McDonald - a member of the Council of Watchers. 

As the evening progressed without the Watcher's arrival, Spike became more and more drunk. He was scared - not so much for himself, but for Buffy. He knew Angelus as few did. He had lived with him and Dru for over a century. Without his vampire healing ability, he would have had the scars to prove it.

By the time Alasdair came in, Spike was very drunk. If he were human, he would have fallen off his stool long before. The distinct English accent of the drunk grated on the ears of those used to the soft lilt of the Gaelic speaker. He was familiar to many of them, but he was normally ignored. There had been stories in these parts for a while about the couple with the croft near Loch Maree. They were odd, something distinctly other-worldly about them, but they didn't cause any problems. So, with the pragmatism of the Highlander, they were left alone.

Alasdair spotted the vampire long before Spike noticed him. He was intrigued, and sat close so he could hear the story. Even with the ridiculous giggle which interspersed it, it was a tale no one there could match. It was too far-fetched.

"She's beautiful, y'know? My Dru. Dark, long hair, eyes that saw everything, not just what you and I can see. Loved her. Well, thought I did. She was the most important thing in my life for. A long time. She gave me the gift, saved me from mediocrity. She did. She talked to the trees. Listened to the stars. They told her things. Didn't always understand what the hell she was talking about, but she knew. Knew things about people. Cept her Sire. Couldn't ever fathom that bugger. Bastard."

"In the beginning, it was just the four of us. Me and Dru and her Sire Angelus with his Sire Darla. Darla ran the show, but you'd never know it. Angelus kept us in line. Told us where to feed, who to kill. Never to take childer of our own. I was to be Dru's last. I was never to take one. Bloody Angelus never did like me. Just that, when Darla wanted to come back to Angelus, Dru had to be kept happy. So he gave her a gift, let her have me. At the start, I was like a pet. She brought me food and tried to take care of me, but if I'd relied on Dru to keep me going, I wouldn't still be here. She wasn't like her Sire, though. All that time with Angelus, she was used to being dominated. So, bit by bit, I took over. Never hurt her, not like her bleedin' Sire. Couldn't. But I made the decisions, when I could anyway. Angelus ran the show, with Darla pulling his strings."

"Now, she was a one. Darla, cold bitch. But she was his Sire, and, funny thing is, you can't defy your Sire. Bond's a bit less obvious with each generation. Dru wasn't compelled to do as Darla commanded, but twasn't needed. Darla told her childe. One word from Angelus and Dru would've staked herself. Called him Daddy'. Enough to make you puke. Well, Darla, only really cared about herself, well, that and keeping Angelus in line. Never saw it m'self, she liked to keep it nice and private, but saw the evidence, sometimes. Look on his face when Darla had something she was unhappy about. Way she'd call him into her room. Noises while they were there. Him comin' out, grey, not taking off his shirt for days, not until whatever had healed. Then, Dru n I'd be for it. Always knew, after he had one of those sessions with his Sire, we'd be in for it. Sometimes it'd be me first, then her. Most times, the other way round. He knew I hated to see her hurting, so I had to watch while he did her, first. Knowing I could've stopped him, if she let me. She never did. Always saying something like, Daddy's not happy. We've displeased him, we need to be punished.'"

"Think that was because of what he did to her before he changed her. Always was a perverse bastard. Took the purest girl he could find. Debased her any way he could, then, when she was mad, made her immortal. Got no bleedin' soul, n I know that's wrong."

"Then, Darla got this idea about lookin' up her own Sire. Never met him. Hope I never will. Didn't want Dru n I in the way, so they left us. For ten years, it was just Dru n I in London. Had a whale of a time. She loved me so much. Always had, but that time, twas the best. We had ten whole years without punishment', without Dru bein' dragged into his bed. Had her to m'self."

He paused, taking an extra large slug of his drink, and raising a fist to his eye, wiping away the moisture which had formed there. The man who was sitting next to him had moved there to hear better. He wasn't drunk, and was listening intently.

"Then, he came back. Darla got dusted. Didn't upset him. Had to do what she said, but he never cared for the bitch. So he came back. Dru was his, and he didn't care about me. Dru wanted me there, I know she did. Of course, Dru was in his bed then, except when he found something different. Started playing with his food. But Dru still couldn't come to me. Wanted to, but she couldn't. Then Dru started having visions. About this place in California. She said it would be good for the family. One of us would have the opportunity to bring hell to earth. Course, Angelus already did that. For me and Dru anyway. So we went. He got into some things, but it didn't interest me. He was too busy to worry too much about what I got up to, unless he needed to hurt someone. I got interested in the Slayer. I killed two Slayers before. It amused Darla, so I got the chance. Didn't interest Angelus. He likes his kills to be pure, like my poor Dru. The Slayer, she knows too much. So I got to kill them. And here was another one. So I watched and I planned."

A bout of his almost hysterical giggling wracked him then, and it was several minutes before he could continue.

"I think I loved her first time I saw her. Maybe not love as you'd understand it, that came later. Different from with Dru. With her, it was the Sire/childe bond and wanting to protect her. Bloody bolloxed that, but I wanted to. This Slayer, she was beautiful. Not just the way she looked, it was everything. The way she fought, that was poetry. Used to write poetry, so I know. I watched. She knew I was there, think she always knew I'd be the end of her. And then I got my chance. Something happened. Her mum died. She was sad, not thinking too straight. Maybe she didn't want to live any more. So we fought. Good fight, I'll give her that. Thought she'd got me, more than once, but in the end, I had her, pushed up against a wall. She'd hit her head hard when I pushed her there, so she was kinda dazed. And then I drank."

He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment, savouring the moment. "Funny thing, I'd drained two Slayers before. Thing about slayer blood, it's an aphrod. aphrod.. you know. Makes you hard. Before, I had Dru waiting for me. This time, nothing. And she was different. She was dying, but the noises she made were driving me crazy. She was moving against me, like she wanted me. So I gave her what she wanted. I had her up against the wall while I drained her. Never had better. Then I knew, I had to keep her. She was special. So, when she was all but dead, I let her drink from me. Gave it all back. Made her my childe."

His voice had become almost reverent as he said this. He sat looking into his drink for several minutes. His listeners were silent, waiting for the rest of the tale.

"Knew I shouldn't ve done it. Knew he'd finish her, or worse, he'd take her. To punish me. So I ran. Ran away from my Sire, my Dru. The pull of my childe the only thing that ever matched the bond with my sire. We left. "

His shoulders started to heave. The movement continued down his body, until his whole being was convulsing with the sobs that wracked him. A few minutes after that, he slumped off his stool, to all appearances, dead.

The man who had been listening particularly carefully, hefted the vampire over his shoulder and carried him out. No one stopped him, or commented at all. Dumping him on the back seat of his car, he took him home.

_Ok, don't expect this to be updated for a while. I'm finding later parts of the story quite hard to pull together, and I won't post anything until I'm sure it won't need to be changed. I really would appreciate feedback on this one. It has the potential to become very dark and that's a departure for me. I suppose how dark depends on where the story takes me._


	3. Chapter 3 - A Trouble Shared

**_Chapter 3 - A Trouble Shared_**

His first conscious thought the next morning was that someone had decided to restyle his head with an axe. Yet the feeling was so familiar, that he was forced to think again. Recognition dawned - morning after headache. It took him a second to remember why he had been drinking and he immediately stopped himself. There was no point getting into that now. He had to get himself moving, then spend the day trying to work out how to put things right. And then spend the night getting drunk because he couldn't fix it.

Cautiously, he opened one eye. The room was darkened, heavy curtains on the window. He opened the other eye, allowing his gaze to take in his surroundings. Where the hell was he? Not home. He tried to sit up, but fell back, a wave of nausea enveloping him. As he lay there, he tried to push his other senses out, trying to understand where he was. A heartbeat. He could hear one. Coming closer. The door opened, and someone came in. 

He was tall, taller than Spike, something over six feet, heavier built without being fat. He was wearing dark trousers and a light coloured T-shirt. His hair was gingerish, and his skin, pale and freckled. Spike recognised him as the Watcher he had been looking for. There was a strange expression on his face. It was a mixture of wariness and embarrassment. Spike's eyes went to the man's hands. One held a cross and the other a mug.

"I brought you some blood," he started. "Thought you might need it. But if there's anything else" he trailed off. The vampire on the bed was looking at him, as if he had gone mad.

"What am I doing here?" Spike demanded. As he spoke, he realised he was naked under the sheet that covered him. "And where are my clothes?" Spike's voice was raised, and he cringed as an extra wave of pain hit him.

The stranger put the mug he was carrying on the bedside table, and sat on a chair close to the bed, cross held out in front of him.

"And put the bloody cross away. I'm not going to attack you," Spike growled. He regretted it immediately for two reasons. The first was that the pain in his head went up another notch, and the second was that he had come to ask this man for help, and he shouldn't be brassing him off.

"You don't remember last night, do you?" The accent was soft and local. "You were in the bar. You were talking, I was listening. You passed out. Thought I'd better get you somewhere out of the sun before they threw you out. Then you threw up in my car. That's why you've got no clothes. They're in the washer, they'll be clean soon." He paused for a moment, letting this sink in.

"So, do you want the blood?" 

"Why?" was all Spike could manage.

The stranger smiled. "I'll tell you my story later, but for now, will you believe I want to hear the rest of your story?"

Spike shook his head in disbelief, and reached for the mug. The smell of it had reached his nostrils moments earlier, and he was about to start drooling. Anyway, it was the best cure for his queasy stomach. When it was gone, he slumped back on the pillows, waiting for the red nectar (cows', he recognised) to work its magic.

"First, are you Alasdair McDonald?"

The man looked surprised, holding the cross a little tighter than he had.

"Yes," he answered. "I am Alasdair McDonald."

"Oh, a teuchter," Spike recognising the softness of his accent. He was getting slow. "Sorry, speak a fair number of languages, but never got the hang of the Gaelic."

"That's all right, Mr. .. William, isn't it? I manage perfectly well in the sassenach tongue."

"Well, I prefer Spike these days, but William will do, for now. So, how do you know my name?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Spike pulled himself straighter in the bed. There was something about being naked under the covers that made it difficult to look threatening. He could always use his other face, but that seemed like overkill. He really needed help, and he had no other likely candidates.

"You have no idea, do you?" he started. "No idea why I was getting drunk last night." The reason hit him again, and he started to crumple.

"I think it's because she's gone, I'm just not sure why," he replied, shocked to see the proud vampire sink into the covers, his expression bleak. Whatever it was, it explained his state the previous night. 

"You never know," he added, "I may even be able to help."

It was later, some time just before noon. Spike had taken up the offer of a shower, and was sitting in borrowed clothes beside a roaring fire. The cottage was small, probably an old croft. The weather sounded rough. It was November, and the winter was already making its presence known outside. He could hear rain battering the windows and the sound of the wind in the trees. In his hand he held a cup of tea made just the way he liked it. Alasdair sat opposite him, waiting for the rest of the story.

"So, how much did you hear?" the vampire started. He wasn't sure why he was going to do this, except for the fact that he had never felt so helpless as he did at this moment. And this watcher, well, he just might be able to help. He couldn't see how at that moment, but it was just possible.

"Well, you got to the part where you killed the Slayer, where you killed Buffy Summers."

Spike took a deep breath. The night his life began. Again. Five years ago - at the same time, the blink of an eye, and his whole life. 

"I don't know what the Council told you. You know I killed two Slayers before her?"

Alasdair nodded. 

"Well, thing is, they were both clean kills. I drained them, and that was all. With her, it was different. There was always something erotic about killing. Didn't matter who it was, man, woman, whatever. Slayers though, they were special. Something about the blood. But with the others, the blood was enough. Didn't want more from them. With her, it was different. One sip from her neck and I knew I wanted her. Somehow, she wanted it too. So, I didn't just kill her. Suppose the Council would say I raped her, but she wouldn't. She wanted it as much as I did. And after, I knew, I couldn't live without her. It was like being born again. I died, and Dru brought me back, but I was still dead. Then Buffy, she brought me back completely. I know, I'm still dead, I'm still a demon, but I felt alive. The problem was Dru's sire."

"You talked about him last night," Alasdair interrupted. "The Council has a lot of information on him. Probably more than on any other demon."

"Then you know he's a sadistic bastard. Nothing gets him off faster than someone else's pain - specially if it's Dru or me. Specially if it's me. I was forbidden to take a childe. He didn't want anyone to be there for me. He controlled me through his bond with Dru. I'd do whatever Dru wanted and she was controlled by him. That's how it was. As soon as I realised what I'd done, I knew I had to get away. Never was able to do it before, the bond with Dru was too strong. For the first time, I had something to pull against the bond. The feeling I had for my childe gave me the strength to get away. I knew what he'd do to her if he ever got her. He'd make her suffer, so I'd be hurt. He'd take her, violate her, just to get at me. He'd make her like Dru. She's mad, you know. He broke her completely. She loves him in a perverted sort of way. She craves the pain he gives her, but she dreads it too. I didn't want him to do that to Buffy."

"So, I managed to get us onto a freighter, made us as comfortable as I could in one of the cargo holds. Raided the hospital before I left, stocked up on blood. Didn't have any qualms about killing, but on a ship, it's the sort of thing that gets noticed if there's too much of it. So, I held her in my arms, waiting for her to come back. Didn't take any precautions. You know. Didn't tie her up in case the bloodlust was too strong. Don't really know why. When she opened her eyes, I kissed her, and it was like when I killed her. I wanted her so much, and she wanted me back. We made love there on the floor of that cargo hold. And it was making love. It was different from anything I'd ever known. It was like," he hesitated, smiling to himself at the word he was about to use. "It was like a benediction. A blessing. Like holding her was my redemption." He stopped, looking embarrassed. 

"I know, I sound like the script for a made-for-TV film. It's the way I used to think. I was a poet, you know, before. Not a good one, just, I liked using words to describe how I felt. Then after Dru changed me, well, I kept away from that sort of thing. But it all changed again with Buffy."

Spike felt his eyes filling again, and chanced a look at his companion, squinting through his eyelashes. He saw his eyes were moist too. 

"After we made love, she just looked at me. Didn't say anything for a long time. When she spoke, she just asked me why. Why did I turn her? She didn't expect to know any more after I drained her. I told her she was special. She made me feel alive. Told her I loved her. And it was true. Realised then, I'd never felt love before. Not even for Dru, although, even now, I still care about her. Then she cried. I nearly ran out into the sunshine to get away from that sound. I thought I'd hurt her, changing her. But she said I hadn't. Said she didn't have any reason to live. Asked me to give her one. I said I'd try."

Spike took a deep breath before continuing. 

"So, it took a while, but we eventually made land. We were lucky, there was another ship leaving that same night, so we changed ship. Even better, there were cattle on that ship. We used them for blood. At least, I'd feed on them, and she'd feed on me. Eventually, we landed at Southampton. I thought, now's my chance, I'll teach her to hunt. But she wouldn't. Funny thing, I think, she kept her soul. When she changed, it was like part of her soul didn't leave her. Her demon's restrained by it. She wouldn't kill, and I found I couldn't. I wanted to, I'd go and grab someone, get ready to sink my teeth into their neck, and then I'd remember the last time I did that, with her, and knew I couldn't sully that experience with something as basic as assuaging hunger. I know it sounds daft, but that's how it felt."

"We kept on the move for a few weeks. I knew Angelus would look for us in London, so we didn't go there. Of course, the whole not killing' thing was a good camouflage. He'd never expect that. We made our way north. Spent a few weeks in Birmingham before moving on again. Then we settled in Manchester, but the local vampire population started getting curious, so we moved on. We couldn't risk being anywhere among others like us, in case word got back to Angelus. Then we kept going until we got here. No vampires up here, not enough people to keep them going."

"I'd been stealing money to cover what we needed. She wasn't happy about it, but I had to do it. Finally made it up here. Found a croft no one seemed to own. It didn't have a roof, nothing inside. We lived in the car I'd stolen, that and some caves on the beach nearby, while we worked to put a roof on it, and do something with the windows. The locals were interested, but not nosy enough to ask too many questions. They just left us to ourselves."

"The croft was difficult to get to. Not really on the mainland, you can only get there without getting your feet wet at low tide. But it was what we wanted. I borrowed' some livestock - basically some sheep. Not from too close, didn't want the locals cheesed off. And that's how we lived. Sheep's blood. Didn't even kill the animals, at least not until they were too old for anything else, anyway. Just took what we needed. We slept through the day, and went about our chores at night. And we made love. Each time, it was like the first time. I started writing again. Fancied myself as a writer when I was human, and I started again. Managed to publish a few. They're nothing special, not best sellers or anything, but they brought in enough to give us a few comforts."

Spike sighed deeply. His pain was temporarily alleviated by the remembrance of contentment. 

"Then, night before last, he came. I wasn't there. There was a sudden storm, and some of the sheep got stuck, I was out bringing them back. Never thought I'd end up a bloody good shepherd, but there I was. When I came back, she was gone. He left a little calling card. There was a pool of blood on the floor. He knew I'd know. Some of it was Dru's and some was Buffy's. Angelus has her, and I can't save her."

Spike started to sob again, his whole body wracked with his misery. Alasdair knew he could do nothing to help at that moment, but instead sat, impassively waiting for the spasm to pass, unconsciously letting the cross in his hands drop to the floor.

When Spike grew still he asked, "Why can't you save her?"

"Because, if I go near them, Dru's bond to me'll start to work again. And I don't know if I'll be able to resist. Even against my bond to her, I don't know if I'll be able to resist. And that's what he's waiting for. I.. I'm hoping he won't hurt her until I'm there. He doesn't feel anything for her, it's me he wants to hurt. I'm hoping, while I'm away, she'll be safe. And I just don't know what else to do. That's why I came looking for you." His words trailed off in volume, becoming a whisper of despair.

"You were looking for me? Why do you think I could help?"

"Saw you watching. Did some research. You're a Watcher, I'm just not sure why you were watching us."

"Do you know where they are?" he asked, changing the subject.

Spike shook his head. "No, but I could track her. I could find her wherever she is."

"Then," Alasdair stated calmly, "we'll just have to come up with a plan, won't we?"


	4. Chapter 4 - A Family Severed

Chapter 4 - A Family Severed

Dru was fluttering with excitement. Angelus had gone to bring her William back. It had been so long since she had seen him, and she missed him so much. She had been left in the flat, and she didn't like that. She wanted to go with them, but Angelus wouldn't let her. She had been left, chained to the bed, some blood left where she could reach it. She hoped they wouldn't be much longer. She had slept all day, and now she knew they should be back soon. They should have got William and the nasty Slayer and they should be bringing them home. She tried so hard to feel William, to sense him, but she hadn't been able to, not since the night he had left her. She remembered that night as if it were yesterday.

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July 2002

Angelus was out. Spike had gone to bag his third Slayer. Dru had told him not to, told him that it would change everything, but he hadn't listened, and she had been so caught up in his anticipation that she hadn't had the heart to use their bond to stop him. 

She followed him in her mind. She didn't see him, it wasn't telepathy like that. She just felt him, knew what he was feeling. She felt his exhilaration. She felt his excitement. She felt sadness that she couldn't share the result of his tasting the blood of this Slayer. On each of the other two occasions, Darla had been with Angelus, so Dru had been with Spike. Slayer's blood had filled Spike with such sexual energy that they hadn't come down to earth for weeks. She wondered sadly how he would cope with the feeling this time. She wondered who would share it with him.

She felt the start of the end of the Slayer. She felt his triumph, and she knew he had bagged his third. She felt his anticipation as he sank his teeth into her neck. Then everything changed. She felt their bond stretching somehow, as if it was a piece of elastic which had been pulled too tight. As he continued to drink, she felt the bond continue to stretch until it had to break. Except it didn't break, it was just stretched so thin that she couldn't feel him any more, and she knew that, somehow, she had lost him. She knew that the bond was too flimsy to exert a force on him for now, and that she would have to see him again, touch him, to return it to its previous strength.

Later, Angelus burst into the lair to find Dru lying on the floor. She was sobbing and muttering to herself, her face hidden by her hair. Enraged at her misery, Angelus pulled her up by her gown, dragging her to his bed. He threw her down onto it and demanded to know what was happening.

"H…he's gone. My William, he's gone. Can't feel him any more." The words were punctuated by sobs.

"What do you mean?" Angelus demanded, his face marred by his anger. "Is he dead?"

Dru looked up at her sire, wondering how he could ask such a thing. The world would have trembled if he was gone. 

"No, he lives. I just can't feel him. Something's taken him from me. Something to do with the Slayer."

__

November 2007

As he sat in the back of the van as they drove back to Dru, Angelus regarded the woman in front of him. She was conscious again, but she was tied and gagged, and she was helpless. He had often wondered about the Slayer who had stolen Dru's childe, and now he had her. It had taken five years. Admittedly, it was only recently that he had realised just how important she was. Up until then, it had been a question of punishing Spike for deserting the family. He remembered the night when he got back to find Dru sobbing at his loss.

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July 2002

Angelus had returned close to dawn. He had had another frustrating night. All his efforts to find out about what had brought him to the town had turned out to be red herrings again. The only thing that kept him going all the way back to the lair was the thought of how he was going to take out his frustration on Spike. 

While he was still a few minutes away, he sensed that something had changed. He could feel Dru, and she was sad. It was a sadness he hadn't felt on her for a long time, not since he had killed her sisters. He couldn't see what could have caused that, unless, unless William had been staked. And if that was what she was sad about, he'd make her pay. It had always rankled with him that Dru actually cared for her childe. With Angelus, having a childe was all about domination. A childe was a creature who owed their very existence to you, and their every effort should be the pleasure of their Sire. That's how it was with him and Darla. He was so glad she was gone. The very thought of her made him feel weak, remembering countless sessions of giving her pleasure, and even more frequent sessions of bearing the results of her wrath.

When he had heard Dru's halting explanation, Angelus was enraged. He hadn't given permission for the fool to go after the Slayer. True, he hadn't forbidden it, either, but he'd been too preoccupied to notice what Spike was planning. He would have to find out what had happened with the Slayer. But not now. He had intended to try something new on Spike tonight. Something guaranteed to have him screaming. So he would just have to try it out on Dru instead. 

"Dru, dearest," he began, in his softest, almost loving tone - the tone Dru feared most. "You've been a very bad girl, haven't you?" Dru's sobs ceased abruptly at his words. She turned her tear-stained face to his.

"Y..yes, Daddy. I'm such a bad girl. I always disappoint you." As she said the words, she stood and started to undress. She knew the routine from there. At least she didn't have to worry about Spike being forced to watch this time.

Angelus had spent hours in a frenzy. Dru had lost consciousness several times, and he used the respite to plan his next move. Each time she opened her eyes again, she tried to tell him she was sorry, but he was in no mood to listen. He finally fell into an exhausted sleep a couple of hours before sunset. Dru's battered body lay beside his on the bed, her moans of pain filtering through to him even while he slept. She had pleasured him regularly during the day, the sight of her pain a constant stimulus to his libido. 

He sighed as he remembered the feel of her, the way she had been so afraid when he had first claimed her as his, back when she was human. She was more afraid of his taking her honour than she was of him killing her. But he had taken her honour and made her immortal. It was the pinnacle of his long life - to have first made life unbearable for her, and then to make sure her torment was eternal.

He had wakened several hours after sunset. Dru still lay at his side, obviously in need of blood due to what she had lost during daylight. He realised he was hungry too - he had put a lot of effort into his activities earlier. He went out to hunt.

Three bodies later, his hunger was largely assuaged. He just had to remember to bring something back for Dru for later. He couldn't play with her any more if she didn't eat. He smiled when he thought of her. He headed for one of the bars in Sunnydale which catered mainly for demons. Everyone went quiet as he entered. 

"As it should be," he thought to himself. If nothing else, he had a reputation to maintain. He ordered a drink, but said nothing, simply listening for the moment. The main topic of conversation was the disappearance of the Slayer. The patrons were trying to work out what had happened to her, and whether it would make life easier for them. There was a lot of good-natured speculation on what had happened and how long it would be before she was back or a new one called.

Angelus listened intently. The Slayer had disappeared along with Spike. He didn't understand. Dru clearly felt the fight between them, so they definitely met, and she couldn't be wrong about that. So, did she stake Spike? Again, Dru thought not. Yet, if he were still alive, Dru's pain today would have called him louder than anything else could have.

He finished his drink. He knew the other customers dearly wanted to ask him what had happened. He was the master vampire in town, and they thought he would be bound to know. He would probably be thought responsible for the disappearance of the Slayer. Getting up to leave, he headed for the home of the Slayer's Watcher. Of course, he had no invitation, but it was a warm night and the Watcher was old fashioned enough to want windows open rather that air conditioning.

Giles sat in his lounge with his arm around his wife of two years. Their daughter slept in her bed upstairs. His face spoke of his concern. Unnoticed, Angelus listened. 

"I spent the whole day looking, asking questions. Nothing. She's gone. I don't know where. I heard she had been seen fighting a vampire last night. By the sound of it, it was William the Bloody. The description fits, and he's supposed to be in town. But her body hasn't been found."

Jenny ran a comforting hand over her husband's shoulders. "What do you know about this 'William the Bloody'? Was he strong enough to kill her?"

"That's the problem," Giles continued. "He's also known as the Slayer of Slayers. He's killed two before, but there were always bodies. But we haven't found …" He broke off then, unable to continue.

"But, you spoke to the Council. They'd know if she were dead, wouldn't they? Another Slayer would be called."

"Well, that's even stranger. They said the situation wasn't clear, that they would call me when they understood. Her aura had changed, faded somehow, but they weren't clear what had happened."

"Relax, Rupert," Jenny coaxed. "They'd know if she was dead. It's just, you know, her mom and everything. She's bound to be upset. That could alter her aura. I mean, she's so alone now. I know she has you, but the whole gang's become so dispersed recently."

One look at his stricken face and she knew she had said the wrong thing. She started to retract, but he stopped her. "You're right. There was a time when she was the centre of a 'family'. She had her mother, Willow, Xander, me, even Riley for a while. But one by one we've moved on. I've got you, and little Lizzie, Xander's got a wife and a business to run, Willow's away at college now. There was only her mum, and she's gone. But, don't you see, that's exactly what could have made her vulnerable? She's the strongest Slayer in generations, she should have been a match for William, but…"

He was interrupted by the telephone. Giles jumped to pick it up, listening intently for several minutes before hanging up. When Jenny looked at him, he had tears in his eyes. She joined him by the phone, cradling him in her arms. "It's confirmed. She's dead. Another Slayer has been called. They think she was …. Changed. That's why we didn't find her."

Having imparted the information, he crumpled in his wife's arms. He sobbed as she led him upstairs. 

From his place outside, Angelus had heard every word. He blinked in understanding. Spike had turned the Slayer, but instead of bringing her home, he had run. He had managed to break his bond to his Sire. That didn't make sense. Even if he had made her his childe, he would still feel the bond. There was something else going on, but he could wait to find out. The first priority was to find Spike and punish him for going against his wishes. And the Slayer might make a good toy too.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Prisoner

Chapter 5 - The Prisoner

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November 2007

The past day had been a nightmare for Buffy Summers, lately Slayer. She and Spike had been out enjoying a rare clear night. Inevitably, after a while the rain had started and quickly became very heavy. It was the latest in a succession of heavy rainstorms and the loch had started to encroach on the land where they kept their sheep. Some had been cut off by rising water, and Spike had stayed to get the sheep to safety. She had agreed to go home ahead of him. When she opened the door, she had been surprised by number of vampires. She had fought, her home was wrecked in the process, but there were too many of them, and she had succumbed.

She was taken on a journey. She was bound and gagged and no amount of struggling loosened her bonds in the slightest. One of her captors in particular spent a lot of time watching her. He didn't speak, just watched, as if trying to understand something about her. She found it was difficult to keep track of time beyond her vampire sense of 'sunrise' and 'sunset'. She was worried about Spike. She could sense him and knew he was afraid for her. She realised that he felt helpless, and that alone worried her more than anything else. He had never been helpless.

At last the van stopped and she was dragged into a building. She was taken down some stairs and through a doorway into what she recognised was an old flat. She was dragged into a large room, with a high ceiling which was elaborately corniced. There was no furniture in the room, and the floorboards were bare. There were no windows. The little light in the room came from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling above her. Buffy was stripped and then manacled to the wall.

A little while later, the vampire who had watched her during the drive came into the room followed by a woman. She was dark haired and pale skinned. Buffy knew she had never seen the woman before. She was equally sure she was Dru. Spike had described her often, almost often enough to elicit jealousy on her part. And Buffy knew then by inference who the other vampire was. It must be Angelus.

Angelus approached her, appraising her with his eyes as he got closer. Buffy didn't like it at all. Dru looked momentarily puzzled, then hissed as she reached out her hand to touch the prisoner. Angelus immediately moved his gaze to his childe. She knew something, something which surprised her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"She, she smells of my William. His scent's all over her." She keened the words, as if they pained her.

Angelus slapped her hard across the face. "Of course she smells of him, stupid bitch. She's been his whore since she was changed. Just like you've been mine."

Dru's head had snapped back as the blow landed, but it didn't seem to affect her otherwise. "No, you don't understand. How could he touch her? Can't you feel it? She has a soul. Her touch sears your skin."

Angelus looked at Dru. This was one of the reasons he put up with her. She saw things no one else could. As if to make her point clear, Dru gently stoked Buffy's face, but quickly pulled her hand away, as if burnt. Angelus also reached out a hand to the captive, but not to her face. His hand simply hit her thigh once hard. "You're imagining it," he told her. "She doesn't burn me."

"Yet, she has a soul," Dru insisted. Angelus didn't argue. If Dru said the bitch had a soul, then she had a soul.

"So," he began, looking at his captive. "I think some introductions are in order."

"I know who you are," Buffy told him. Angelus' face became red with anger, and slapped her hard across the face.

"You don't ever speak without permission. Do you understand? I don't know what your bloody Sire taught you, but you're mine now, and you live by my rules. Anyone else would be feeling my belt right now. Understand?"

He was leering at her, his anger barely under control. He didn't give her a chance to answer. 

"You have a temporary advantage. There are things I need to do, but I'd really rather wait until Spike gets here. I'm going to break you. And then I'm going to claim you. And when I do that, you'll belong to me. Just like Dru does. And the best part of it is, that it'll hurt Spike more than it'll hurt you and I can guarantee you won't enjoy it. Until then, …" He leered at her. "Until then, I'll just have to make do with Dru."

He took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under check. 

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, introductions. The lady, is Drusilla. She's Spike's Sire. Stupid bitch, but she has her uses. And I, I am Angelus. I Sired Dru. To all intents, I am your lord and master, and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you."

"Now, there are some things you're going to tell me. I'm not going to expect answers yet, because I'd really rather beat it out of you. You broke Dru's heart, you know. Not that I really care, but I've had to put up with five years of her pining and whining. You took her childe away, and you know what? She can't even sense him. She can't feel him any more. That's quite a trick, and it's one of the things you're going to explain to me." 

"So, for now, I'm going to tell you how it's going to be. At night, you'll be chained as you are. During the day, if you're good, I'll let you use the floor to lie on. You'll still be tied up, but you might like to lie down for a while. If you piss me off, you can just stay chained up. You'll be fed when I say. And I think I can guarantee you won't ever have enough. And for now, no one will hurt you. There's no fun in hurting you until Spike can see. He's soft, you know. Always preferred to be punished rather than to watch me punish Dru. Never understood it, but, like I said, he's soft."

Buffy had listened to his tirade in silence. She quickly realised Spike had not exaggerated when he described Dru's Sire. He was evil. She could feel it permeating the air around him. In her own way, Dru was evil too, but it was muted, somehow. She'd never been allowed to give her evil rein, had always been subdued by her Sire.

Angelus left then, striding out of the room, leaving the two women alone. Dru had been studying Buffy. She started to sing, a strange ethereal sound. The words were strange, English but still incomprehensible.

She approached Buffy as she finished, looking sorrowful. She touched Buffy gently. 

"Why did you take him from me? Why can't I feel him? I love my William. I need him. But you reek of him, as I once did." She paused, swaying from side to side. "But there's something else. You reek of his love. I never had that. Why does he love you? Why, when he couldn't love me?"

Tears had started to fall down Dru's face as she spoke. Buffy instinctively wanted to comfort her, to hold her, but she couldn't, and she didn't dare speak. She tried to make her feelings known in her expression, but had no idea if she had succeeded. Dru moved to sit in a corner of the room, her arms around her knees, watching Buffy, as if trying to understand the answers to her questions. The two women sat in silence, regarding one another. It was obvious that neither quite knew what to make of the other.

Later that night, Buffy heard Angelus returning. He yelled for Dru who was still sitting watching Buffy. Dru started out of her reverie, and left the room at a run.

Although the building was old and the walls thick, nothing could completely stop the sounds from the next room when you had the enhanced hearing of a vampire. It didn't take much imagination for her to know what was going on. She heard leather cracking against itself and against flesh. She heard a man's grunts of pleasure and a woman's whimpers of pain. In an effort to cut herself off from the sounds from the next room, Buffy concentrated on happier times, and soon she was reliving the time when she first met Spike.

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Sunnydale, July 2002

It was the day she buried her mother. She'd been ill for a while, and her rational self told Buffy that it was for the best, that her mother wouldn't suffer any more, but she'd never felt so alone in her life. 

They were all there - everyone she loved - and there were pitifully few of them. Xander was there with his wife, and Willow, and Giles and Jenny. After the brief ceremony, they had all dispersed at Buffy's request. Thinking about it, she had been so close to all of them once, but things change. First thing was when they left school. Xander found a job, and Willow had the chance to go abroad to study. They both regretted leaving her behind, or so they claimed, but they were well out of it. They both managed to get out of Sunnydale, and she envied them. She expected to end her short life in that town. 

Giles had still been there, of course, although things were serious between him and Jenny. Soon after they left school, Giles had married her, and barely nine months later, little Lizzie had been born. He tried to show her it made no difference to their relationship, that he would always be there for her, but it didn't work. Buffy realised it was partly her own doing. She just couldn't bear the thought of involving Giles in something which would leave his baby daughter fatherless. 

So, Buffy had slipped further and further into her independence. And she coped well, right up until her mother became ill. Seeing her through the endless round of hospital visits and medication took everything Buffy had left. When she died, Buffy felt like an empty shell.

The night after the funeral, she went out to patrol as usual. No one knew she planned to. In fact, it was safe to assume her friends thought she was tucked up at home that night. She didn't even understand it herself, she just knew she had to patrol that night.

She saw Spike in the distance, as she had so often before. He had been around for a while, always watching her, but never coming close. She normally spotted him out of the corner of her eye while she was fighting another vampire, only to find him gone when she had finished. That night was different. He was the only vampire she met. She knew his name, of course. Giles was meticulous at keeping her up to date with the current evil in town. She had heard his story, his history, but she was surprised when she had the chance to see him properly for the first time. Somehow, he was smaller than she'd imagined him. His face was younger than she expected. His eyes were definitely bluer. He smiled gently at her as he approached.

"Hello, Cutie," he said, his accent more English than she had expected, but his voice deeper than his apparently slight frame implied.

She had always known he had a significant part to play in her life. She didn't know how, but she knew. When she saw glimpses of him, something in her connected, somehow. She'd never mentioned this sense of recognition to anyone. It was intensely personal. That night it was different. She couldn't have run away even if she had wanted to.

She approached, every Slayer sense at its height. She threw the first blow - a resounding right that caught him square on the jaw. His head snapped back with the force of it, but he simply smiled, almost as if he was approving of her actions. He responded with a spinning kick which sent her to the other side of the alley, landing in a heap there.

The fight continued - she didn't know how long. It was a series of hit and counter hit. She knew she was fighting better than she ever had. And something told her he was too. It was exhilarating. Some time during the fight, she forgot about her mother and the rest of her life. There was only the two of them and the dance they shared. The biggest surprise was that she enjoyed it. She knew she was grinning like an idiot and she didn't care. She saw the same expression on her opponent's face.

It only took a moment. Knowing she was at her best, she had a vague thought. She wished, for just a second, that her mother could see her - see how well she was doing. And that thought cost her everything, because with it, came the memory that her mother was dead. That lapse in concentration allowed Spike to hit her harder and with better aim than he should have done. She flew across the alley, her head snapping back as she hit the wall. She was dazed. For a few seconds, she was out of it, and that was all he needed.

Suddenly he was there, pinning her to the wall. For the first time, his face changed, his fangs lengthening as she watched, mesmerised. She remembered thinking, "That's what death looks like," as he sank his fangs into her neck. There was pain for a second, then both pain and fear were replaced by something else. There was something incredibly erotic about his proximity, and she knew he felt it too. She knew she wanted him. It didn't make sense, but she knew what she wanted. She moaned at the feel of him so close, and to her surprise, he responded. She remembered enough of Spike's history to know that this wasn't part of his pattern. He didn't do that. But, he was removing the clothing that separated them without retracting his fangs in the slightest.

Her last thought as she finally lost consciousness was of the pleasure he had brought her. If she was going to die, at least she had enjoyed it.

She didn't know how long it had been. When she next opened her eyes, she was in the dark. The floor beneath her body was swaying gently, and all she could see were two deep blue eyes that looked into hers with a love she couldn't fathom. It took only seconds for her to realise what had happened. He no longer felt cold. She remembered that from before. He had felt cold. Now, he felt just the way she did. He leaned down to kiss her, and she responded. They made love where they were, gently and passionately until both were spent. 

Realising her hunger, he allowed her to feed from him. She remembered crying, and Spike trying to get away from the sound. She had held him there, telling him over and over that he hadn't hurt her. She asked him to give her a reason to live, and he had promised to try. Afterwards, they lay together for hours without speaking. Somehow there was no need to speak. Both felt a contentment they had never known before, either in life or in death.

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Glasgow, 2007

Lost in the memory, Buffy didn't at first notice that everything in the next room had gone quiet until she was joined by Dru. She crept in, wearing only a thin, almost translucent wrap. She hobbled, and moved as if each step caused her pain. To her surprise, Dru held a cup of blood in her hand. She held it to Buffy's lips to let her drink. The blood was human, and Buffy almost retched at the unfamiliar taste, but she forced it down. Whoever it came from was already dead, and she needed to be strong.

Gently, Dru removed the manacles from around Buffy's wrists and replaced them with rope which gave her greater freedom of movement. Buffy crumpled to the floor, her arms aching from being in one position for too long. Dru was cooing at her, stroking her face and her hair, soothing her. 

"You smell of my William," she murmured, as if it explained her actions. She retrieved a blanket from the other side of the room, and pulled it over them as she lay down beside Buffy, spooning up behind her. There was no threat inherent in the action, and Buffy understood it for what it was and was grateful. It was simply an offer of mutual comfort in the name of the man they both loved.

Buffy lay for some time, feeling the sensation returning to her arms. She was struggling not to despair. She was praying with everything she had that Spike wouldn't try to rescue her. At last, worn out with worry, she slept.

She was wakened before sunset when she felt Dru get up from behind her. She was agitated, muttering to herself.

"What's the matter?" Buffy asked, concerned.

"It's nearly sunset, I have to go back," Dru muttered, moving fast towards the door. As she opened it, she looked back at the other woman. 

"I have to be there when he wakens, in case I'm needed," she explained.

Buffy had never understood about Dru. She knew Spike cared about her, and that the only thing which had marred his existence was the fact that he had to leave her behind. She was starting to appreciate why he had felt like that. Dru was completely submissive to her Sire. Spike had told her that Dru loved her Sire. It would no more cross her mind to defy him than it would to go for a walk in the sunshine. It wasn't even as if he could hurt her any more than he did already.

She sensed the sunset, as all vampires are able to. Within moments she became aware of sounds in the adjacent room. There were no whimpers of pain this time, just the rhythmic squeaking of bedsprings.

Relishing what she realised would be her last few moments of comparative comfort, Buffy thought about Dru again. She was an enigma. She understood her place in her Sire's life, and yet she didn't seem unhappy. Maybe in some ways, her insanity was some sort of buffer between her and the existence she was forced to endure. She remembered Spike telling her about the time he and Dru had spent without Angelus. During that time, Dru's madness had receded. She had been lucid most of the time, and even learned to exist without pain. Yet, she also knew that within days of Angelus' return, the madness had returned as if it had never been gone.

She struggled not to hear what was happening in the next room and let her hearing and other senses range wider. She could feel humans close - probably outside. She had retained her Slayer ability to recognise vampires, and she could sense several of these too. There were the two next door, but she could also make out the feeling of another five close by. She assumed these were the ones who had helped to bring her here.

It was maybe an hour later when Angelus came in. He lifted her roughly and fitted her hands into the manacles over her head. He leered at her, running his hands up and down her body, apparently disappointed when she didn't respond.

"What is it about you, bitch?" he asked. "Dru's already begging me to let you stay on the floor. What've you been saying to her? Dru doesn't beg me for anything, she knows it costs her too much. Did you hear her before she slept? Did you hear her whimpering? That was because of you. She wanted me to go easy on you. What I can't understand is why? How did you corrupt her childe? And how are you managing to corrupt mine? Is it your soul? Is there something else about you? Tell me what you know."

It was a command, and Buffy recognised it as such. She lifted her head as high as she could, the pain in her abused arms and sockets already severe.

"I don't know. Spike used to tell me I'd kept my soul, but I don't know how. Maybe it's part of being the Slayer. I don't know why Dru can't feel him. I think he still senses her, but he doesn't talk about it."

Buffy could see no sense in not telling him. She didn't understand what had happened or why. She knew Spike could still sense Dru clearly. That was the one thing he had hidden from her, the way he could still sense Dru's pain and the way it hurt him, but she forgave him the deceit because it was done to spare her pain. She hoped it would satisfy Angelus. 

He looked at her, weighing her words. "I think you know more, bitch, but I'll let it go for now. You see, Spike had better get here soon, or we'll have to start without him. We've got to leave here soon, if we want to fulfil the requirements for the end of the world. And you get to be guest of honour at that. But you've got a lot to learn before then, and I want Spike to see you learning. I want him to feel every bit of pain I'm going to give you because it would make it all so much sweeter. But if I have to, I will start without him. I'll bet he never taught you about pain, did he? Never had the stomach for giving it, I know that. So you're going to have to start at the very beginning, and I'm really going to enjoy breaking you."

He was grinning now, in anticipation. Even a few strokes from his belt would have her a quivering wreck, and he had so much more in mind. Dragging his mind back to the present, he continued, "I'm going out to hunt, and when I get back, I want you to listen very carefully to what's happening next door. I'll probably be asking you questions later - or maybe I'll chain you up in there, so you can see what's going on. If Dru's bond can't bring Spike here, maybe yours can. I'll think about my options, and I think you should realise you don't have any."

He stepped away from her, looking her up and down again. "You know what I can't understand? How he managed to stay with you for so long. I can't see anything that'd keep me happy for five years, but then, he never had the chance to sample much variety. Probably just the fact that you made yourself available to him, that'd be enough. Still, I'll find out in a while. I wonder if you'd be worth a second go."

At that point, he left, and Buffy felt tears welling in her eyes. She could feel Spike and knew how he was feeling. He was afraid for her, and he could feel Dru's pain. She just wished she could shield her unhappiness from him, but she didn't know how.


	6. Chapter 6 - A Prophecy Revealed

Chapter 6 - A Prophecy Revealed

"Ok, I've told you my story. How about you tell me yours?" Spike grumbled to the highlander.

Alasdair nodded, then sat silently for a few seconds gathering his thoughts. "Well, you know I'm a Watcher. I've had a special assignment for the past few years. I've been watching you - both of you. I was chosen because I'm a local and wouldn't stand out."

Spike looked perturbed. "Why would we merit our very own Watcher? I mean, it's not even as though we've been killing."

"In some ways, that's exactly why. We knew you were keeping to animal blood. At first, you were just an enigma. There were those in the Council who wanted to finish you both. They simply didn't want an ex-Slayer among the undead. But, some of us felt differently." 

He stopped, remembering the arguments. It had been the first time Quentin Travers had lost an argument of this type. Of course, that was before… He brought himself back to the present and continued.

"How much do you know about prophecy?"

Spike was surprised at the apparent jump in conversation.

"Not a lot, didn't ever see any I really understood. Angelus was into something - he was trying to work something out - that's why we went to Sunnydale. Dru had a vision, and he heard rumours about a prophecy. He was trying to find it. That's why I was able to watch her, study her. That's why I was able to kill her."

"Yes, well, I think we can assume he's got what he wanted. He's been very busy lately. He managed to get to one of the most senior Watchers in London. He changed Quentin Travers, so he knows as much as the Council does. And that's why he's taken Buffy."

"Wait, are you telling me there's more to this that him wanting to get back at me?"

"I'm afraid so. No doubt that adds a little extra interest for him, but there's much more. Let me show you."

He switched on his computer and pulled up a file. Motioning Spike to sit beside him, he started to read.

__

"The warrior will be overwhelmed by the dark. A gift will be given, and one returned. Good will be shared by them, and they shall know happiness for a time. But know that they have a higher purpose. When the time is close, the soul will be sundered. One part will be taken by the agent of evil and he will try to claim her. The blood of a dark warrior, given freely, will be the key.

The entity which was severed by it's own conflict will entice others to its cause. It matters not whether left or right, the aim will be the opening of the doorway and a reign of chaos.

The defeat of the evil requires the soul to be made whole again. The two who share must find a way to destroy the agent, and through him to reunite that which was sundered. Thus will they find their destiny."

Alasdair looked at his companion. It was easy to forget what he was. "That's the best translation we have of a prophecy found buried on the isle of Iona. The parchment was ripped, and we suspect there was more, but we don't know for sure."

"Ok, I've read the prophecy. Now tell me what it means, and how does it affect Buffy?"

"Well," he started, unsure how to break the news. "You've got to understand that it's a major departure for the Council to accept this, but you see where it refers to 'the warrior'? Well, we think that means Buffy. The Slayer is often referred to as the Warrior of Light. Now the next bit, 'A gift will be given and one returned.' Now, the first gift, we think that's when you changed her. It's sometimes referred to as a gift."

Spike nodded, a shiver going down his spine at his own memories and his recent dreams of Dru's words.

"Now," Alasdair continued, "the next bit. You said you thought it was as though she kept her soul when you changed her. Well, if I read this prophecy right, she did. And here's the best bit. The gift you gave her was to change her. The gift she returned, was that she shared her soul with you. There is precedence for the use of the word 'good' meaning soul or conscience."

He sat back, watching the vampire's reaction. He wasn't sure what to expect.

Spike sat quietly, a look of total incredulity on his face. When he spoke, his expression had become a sneer. 

"You're off your bleedin' rocker, mate. I haven't got a soul - not even part of one. If that's the best you've got to offer, I'll just leave and work out how to get her back by myself."

He got up and was surprised to feel Alasdair's hand on his arm. 

"Wait, please," he asked softly. Spike didn't understand why, but he sat back down, his posture defensive, arms crossed, a glower on his face. 

"Ok, convince me."

"Listen," Alasdair coaxed. "Think about it. Turning her changed you, didn't it? How often have you killed since you drained her? Have you even thought about killing since then?"

Spike looked uncomfortable. "Well, I told you about that. I wanted to kill, wanted to feed, but it didn't seem right after her. Only person I've fed from since then is her, and the only person she's ever fed from is me. And, you get out of the habit, after a while. You know, …." he finished lamely.

Alasdair grinned triumphantly. "See!"

"But you're wrong. Right now, I really want to kill someone. Slowly and painfully." 

Spike had changed to demon face and growled menacingly. Alasdair looked unsure of himself. He started to stand, ready to edge away. As he did so, Spike's face reverted to its human form and he grinned. "Knew I still had it in me," he chuckled. "Don't worry, it's not you I was thinking about. It's that bastard grandsire of mine who's giving me all sorts of inspiration. You see, I know what Dru and Buffy are feeling. He's hurting Dru. Hell, he always did, but he's being particularly vicious about it just now. And he's threatening Buffy. You have no idea how much I want to hurt him."

Relaxing visibly, Alasdair smiled that he had been so easily taken in. "The fact remains. You and Buffy now share what was her soul. Tell me, were you surprised it took Angelus 5 years to find you?"

Spike had been looking at his lap, contemplating the possibility that he had a soul. At these last words, his head snapped up. "What? Yeah, yeah, I thought the best we'd do would be to keep on the run. Never thought we'd be able to settle anywhere. Why?"

"I think, if you have a soul, that masks your essence to Dru. She can't see through it. That's why it took so long. The only question is how he found you at all."

"You mean, she can't feel me? She thought I was gone? Oh…"

Spike was immediately engulfed in a huge feeling of sympathy for his Sire. To lose contact with a childe must be terrible. 

"You mean, all this time, I've been thinking she knew how happy I've been, its all…, she never felt it?" 

Spike was quiet for several moments, and Alasdair simply watched the slumped shoulders in concern. 

"How could anyone doubt him having a soul?" Alasdair thought, feeling compassion for the vampire.

After a few moments, Spike straightened, mentally and physically pulling himself together. 

"You know, in the beginning, I was always alert. Always mentally checking for his presence around. Waiting for him to come. As time went on, I suppose I relaxed too much. That's why .…. he got her. So, Watcher, how can we put this right? I'm not commenting on your prophecy, I just want her safe. If we do that, I'll give some thought to what we can do - if it even applies to us."

"Well, the first job will be to find out where she is. Then, I'll call in the cavalry."

"What d'ya mean? I can track her, find her, but I can't get too close. If Dru can reassert the bond, I'll have to go to her, to him. And then …"

"Listen, we'll take appropriate precautions. I've got colleagues in London - experts in their fields. They've come to agree with my point of view. I called them earlier. They're ready to help, as soon as we know where she is."

"South," Spike answered. "She's south of here, but that could mean just about anything."

"Doesn't matter. I'll get the crew together. They can fly into Inverness, and we'll pick them up from there. Hopefully, by tomorrow night, we can be on our way." 

Although it was unnatural for Spike to be sleeping during the night, he was exhausted. He quickly slept, but within minutes was awake again, unsure what had wakened him. After that, he lay for hours, worrying about Buffy, knowing she was afraid and unhappy. He had completely dismissed the nonsense about him having a soul as patently ridiculous and was therefore thoroughly annoyed by the fact that Alasdair's words kept echoing in his head.

The drive to Inverness the next day was uncomfortable. Despite the grey November weather, Alasdair's car let in too much sunlight for Spike's liking. He was forced to sit well back in his seat, keeping his arms away from the window. Of course, the roads this far north were mainly single track with an unnecessary number of hills and bends. At least there was very little traffic. On the way, Spike read his way through some paperwork on the rest of the 'cavalry'. It vaguely linked with something in his mind, something Buffy had told him about her early days as the Slayer. Then, she had had her friends behind her. 

She had written to her friends after she was changed - insisted on it. As soon as they were on land for a short time, she had written to Giles, Xander and Willow, telling them not to worry about her, that she was happy. That she wasn't going to kill. Of course, she didn't get any replies as they didn't know where to send them. And after they were settled, she didn't dare send anything that could be traced by Angelus. He smiled at the memory. She never forgot her friends, but they were no longer close when she died, so she didn't really miss them.

Wrenching his thoughts back to the present, Spike brought his attention to bear on the papers on his lap.

****

Stephen Barratt

Watcher. Expert on celtic prophecy. Olympic standard shot with the crossbow. Expert swordsman.

****

Grianne Sullivan

Watcher. Also adept Witch. Linked to a coven in County Donegal which will lend her power at need.

****

John Corbett

Council Operative. Expert on close quarters combat. Veteran of the South American debacle.

Reaching this last line, Spike looked at his companion. "What does that mean? South American debacle?"

"Oh, yes, well" Alasdair seemed to be struggling for words. "Yes, few years ago. There was a second Hellmouth. Threatened to open, spewing out all sorts of nasties. The Slayer was busy elsewhere, and the Council had to handle it direct. By all accounts, it was a very bloody battle. Sent in the best operatives we have, of course, no match for a Slayer. Lost seven out of ten of them. John was one of the leaders of that engagement. They reckon he saved the other three in ten because of his tactics. He should've been knighted as a result - would have if he'd been fighting human enemies. Still, that's how things work. You'll have to be careful with him. He's a might jumpy around vampires."

"What do you mean, 'jumpy'?"

"Well, to quote him when I called him, 'If that bloody vampire even looks at me wrong, he'll feel a stake in his heart before my next heartbeat.'"

"So, I take it, I'd better be on my best behaviour?" Spike grinned, remembering Alasdair's reaction when he had changed face on him the day before. "No more…" His face changed for emphasis.

Alasdair took his eyes off the road long enough to see his companion's face. Laughing he answered, "That's exactly what I mean."

He sobered as he saw Spike's face change back. There was concern on his face. "What is it?"

"I've just read the last member of the team. Keeping the best for last?"

**__**

Rupert Giles

Watcher (Retired). Expert on the Hellmouth at Sunnydale, California. Considered the world expert on the consequences and history of turning a Slayer.

"Oh, yes. Well, no I wasn't going to keep it secret, just didn't know how to tell you."

"So, I'll bet he had some choice words to say about me, too."

"Well, yes. He wanted to know why I hadn't staked you on sight. He retired after …. He agreed to help on this. He's spent every minute since he retired studying past instances of Slayers being changed. And he'd do anything to see her again."

"She'd love to see him, too." Spike's voice was a whisper.

Alasdair turned to look at the vampire, and saw a spasm of pain cross his face. "What is it?" he asked.

"He's started on Dru again. He's hurting her. Keeping the human face now is difficult. When we get closer, if I can feel Dru better, I might not be able to do it. And I don't know what I'll do if I find he's started on Buffy."

They arrived at the airport late in the afternoon. They parked in the new underground car park and headed for the arrivals area. Inverness airport was a small affair, dealing only in internal flights. There were regular flights to the many islands off the coast of Scotland as well as a few flights from Britain's major cities - London, Birmingham, Manchester, Glasgow and Edinburgh. The flight they were due to meet was from London.

While Spike followed him, Alasdair made for a rental company desk. He'd arranged something big enough for all six of them to travel in at least some comfort - a Mercedes people carrier. Best of all, from Spike's point of view, it had windows complete with curtains in the back, so he should be safe even if the sun decided to poke through the clouds.

When they had the keys, Spike stood back as Alasdair met his colleagues. He tried to match faces with names, and found he could only do two with any certainty, and one of those was the only woman in the group. He knew they were watching him, not sure what to expect. Spike hadn't spent a lot of time in human company lately, but he had enjoyed Alasdair's companionship, especially since he exhibited little fear. He realised it might be a while until he had the same familiarity with the others.

In the end, it was John Corbett who asked the question the others had wanted to . "Is that him? Why isn't he restrained?"

Alasdair looked embarrassed and his expression tried to express his apology to Spike. "He's not restrained because he hasn't killed five years. And I trust him."

This last was a challenge, and Spike immediately recognised it. To his surprise, John didn't react, simply shrugging his shoulders to indicate he was still to be convinced. Alasdair then introduced everyone formally. Giles hadn't taken his eyes off Spike. They burned with a hatred the vampire had rarely seen, and he realised he was going to have to be very careful with Buffy's Watcher. As they walked to their transportation, Giles fell into step with Spike. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't know where to start.

"So, you're her Watcher?" Spike ignored the formalities. 

"Yes, and her friend." Giles words were spat from between his teeth.

"Did you get her letter?" Spike asked.

"I did, but I didn't take it seriously. As her Sire, you could get her to do anything. She couldn't be happy with you. As a…"

Spike sighed. "She was … happy. I've never forced her to do anything. I love her. I know, soulless vampire and all that, but we can love, and I do love her. More than anything."

"The only reason you're still walking is the fact that I think we need your help to get her back. As soon as she's safe, I will stake you. And that's a promise."

"Funny," Spike remembered aloud. "When I changed her, after she woke, she cried. I tried to get away, planned to get out in the sunshine. Thought I'd hurt her. She stopped me. Wouldn't let me. But, when this is over, if you still want to stake me, I won't fight. I know I did a terrible thing that night."

Giles looked at the vampire in surprise. That was the last thing he had expected. He made a mental note to keep an even closer eye on Spike. Records on him were sparse, except regarding his penchant for Slayers, and Giles suspected there was more to Spike than anyone had ever suspected.

They bundled into the vehicle Alasdair had rented. John took the front passenger seat next to the highlander, and Spike slipped into the middle seats furthest away from the sunshine, followed by Giles. They started to drive south. They had agreed to stop regularly to allow Spike to take a new bearing on where Buffy was, and they would all share the driving. When they got close enough, they would stop and make sure of their plans. By the time they reached the better roads close to Stirling, it was completely dark. Spike had been getting noticeably edgier as they drove, and looking at a map on his lap, he told Alasdair, "She's in Glasgow. I'm sure of it. It's Angelus' style, anyway. He likes the big population centres."

Alasdair nodded. That agreed with the Council information on Angelus. 

"So, what's next?" Spike was getting impatient, but knew they couldn't afford to go in without a plan.

When no one answered him, he continued, "I think we should stop and rest a while. Plan how we're going to do this. And, maybe you'd better tie me up. She's calling to me louder than ever, and I don't want to lose the control I have - they're both calling me to the same place, and it's driving me crazy trying to resist."

Alasdair noticed the desperation on the vampire's face and nodded.

They booked into a hotel in Stirling, and Alasdair agreed to Spike's request that they share a room, and that he restrain Spike for the night.


	7. Chapter 7 - Time to Go Home

Chapter 7 - Time to Go Home

Next morning, they gathered in the room Alasdair and Spike had shared, all sitting self-consciously on beds or chairs. Spike was tied to a chair and looked very uncomfortable.

There had been considerable conversation in the car among the experts, but none had gone into too much detail. Now the conversation became much more involved. Stephen started with his thoughts. "We all know the prophecy, and how we think it might refer to you and the ex-Slayer," he began. "Now, I've been interested for some time in this evil that's supposed to be unleashed. I've found some other things, especially references to a ritual which has to be performed at the Hellmouth. The requirement is quite simple - the ritual has to involve the blood of a Slayer who has been turned. Now, the only one of those I'm aware of who's walking the earth is Buffy."

He looked at Giles for confirmation and he gave a tight-lipped nod.

"Given the current information, I think Angelus knows this, and that he will soon be heading for Sunnydale. If you're right about him, and revenge is a powerful motive, then he's giving you a chance to catch up with them. You see, the ritual requires the ex-Slayer to give blood willingly. For that to happen, he's going to have to claim her, so that he can dominate her will so that his will is hers, and for that to happen "

He was interrupted by Spike. "He has to break her. And he's waiting so I can watch."

His face was bleak, and he was unconsciously trying to break the bonds which held him in the chair.

They all looked at him, their expressions a mixture of compassion and wariness. Grianne was the first to break the silence. She was a softly spoken Irish woman, and she spoke rather diffidently. "I might be able to help. I've been looking at two things. The first is a way to mask your aura so they don't realise we're coming. The flip side of that, is that it should further weaken your bond to your Sire, and hopefully make it possible for you to be with her without having to obey, at least as long as there is no contact. However, I must stress that that is a maybe. It may have no effect at all on the bond. Regardless, I'd like to do that one more or less immediately."

Spike nodded. "And what else do you have in mind?"

"Well, for the rest, do you have anything of hers? Something important to her."

Spike nodded. When he realised she was gone, he had retrieved it from her drawer. He pulled it out of his pocket, clutching the small silver cross in his fist and feeling it burn his hand as he placed it on his lap. "She couldn't wear it, but it was the last thing her mother gave her before she died. I don't know why I took it, just seemed right."

"Good," Grianne approved, "that will be ideal. The other spell is an attempt to steal her mind, her spirit." She held up her hand to stave off Spike's look of outrage. "Spike, if he starts to try to break her, you know what'll happen, don't you?"

Spike looked straight ahead. That was exactly what he had been trying not to think about.

"Well, if we can take her spirit from her body, he'll never be able to break her completely. Whatever he does to her, she won't feel it. It would be safest if we tether her mind to her body, so it stays close and can be returned easily. The effect of that will be that she can see what happens. Now, I know, that seems less than ideal, but the other possibility - that we allow her spirit to wander freely - there's just too much risk we won't ever be able to put the two back together."

"How long will it take to do the second spell? How much notice will you need?"

"Well, when I've got everything I need to hand, it would take only a few minutes."

"Ok, but can we hold off until we have to do it?"

"Exactly what I planned, Spike. I don't really want to do it unless we know it's necessary."

Alasdair had been watching the exchange closely. He could see how tense Spike was, recognising that he was struggling more then than he had overnight. 

"Grianne, do you think we should get on with the first spell?"

The Irishwoman smiled and nodded. "I'll just get my things."

To Spike's irritation, the first part of the spell had the effect of putting him to sleep, so he didn't know the details. When he awoke, he was lying on his bed, his arms and legs still trussed. He sensed the others had gone before he opened his eyes. 

"Just us again," he quipped to Alasdair who had been watching the television.

"How are you feeling?" the highlander asked. "Feeling any different?"

Spike thought carefully before he answered. "Yeah, it's different. I'm not feeling Dru's pull. Still feel my Buffy though. Not so strong. Don't know about it masking me. I suppose we'll just have to see how that goes. So, want to untie me?"

Alasdair looked concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Listen. I was the one who suggested you tie me up in the first place. I'm sure, and if I change my mind, I'll tell you, ok?"

As he rubbed his wrists, Spike sat up and asked "So, when do we leave?"

"We decided to wait until the morning. It'll be safer to approach the lair in daylight, and we can be in Glasgow early in the morning if we get a good start."

"Ok," Spike sounded disappointed. He was so close to her now, and he couldn't wait, but he would never have bagged three Slayers if he had been too impatient. "So, I've got time for a shower, then."

_Glasgow_

Angelus came back in the early hours of the morning. Before checking on 'his women', he spoke to his minions. "We leave in the morning. Get everything packed and ready. The coffins are in the other room, and they'll be collected at six. In the meantime, I'd better entertain the ladies."

The five minions returned his grin, knowing exactly what he had in mind. 

He went first to Buffy, smiling at her as he approached where she sat. 

"Hello, you do look bored. I'm really sorry we haven't been much entertainment value while you've been here. It's just, you understand, I so wanted to wait for Spike. It's really not going to be so much fun without him. Funny, I really thought he'd be here by now. Maybe he just doesn't care about you. Understandable, really, I suppose."

He paused, bending over to get closer, running his hands over her body. Buffy kicked with her left foot, catching him square on the nose which gave a satisfying crack as a bone broke. Angelus fell back under the impact of the blow. Holding his nose, he crawled back towards her, keeping out of her reach. He shouted, and a moment later a minion appeared at the door.

"Bring the extra chains" he commanded, and the minion scurried off, returning shortly with the chains.

Angelus motioned to the minion, and the two of them held a leg each as they put manacles around Buffy's ankles and attached them uncomfortably to the cleats on the wall. He didn't plan to exactly punish her yet, but he'd make sure she was **very** uncomfortable.

He said something else to the minion which Buffy couldn't hear. He left again, returning moments later with a syringe. Buffy instinctively started to struggle. She didn't know what was in the syringe, but she knew she didn't want it. Again, Angelus held one leg, sitting on it, while the minion grabbed the other. With his free hand, Angelus stuck the needle into her thigh, rapidly depressing the plunger. "Just a little something to keep you from doing any damage. Funny, I was assured the one dose we gave you earlier would be enough, guess he was wrong."

The minion was dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"So, you have some fire, after all. I was beginning to wonder. But, you'll pay for that, bitch. Your first lesson is tonight. This wall," he touched the wall behind Buffy. "Is all that separates you from Dru tonight. You're going to listen very carefully to what's going on. I had planned to have you in there, too, but there's nowhere I can chain you up. I'll need the chains for Dru. So, you're going to listen very carefully. When we get back to my base, I'm going to take a great deal of pleasure in breaking you. It's what I did with Dru. She's completely mine, you know. I broke her with pain and terror. So, I want you to listen very carefully. Because, what Dru gets tonight will seem like light relief compared to what I'm going to give you when we start. And I'll be in from time to time to check you've been listening. I'm going to show you what I've been using. And if I think you've not been paying attention, I'll just have to repeat my actions until I'm sure you understand. That's the whole point of teaching. Repetition until the facts are clearly understood."

Buffy said nothing, trying desperately to keep her expression defiant. The news that she had been drugged in some way at least explained why she had been unable to make any impression on the chains. Her new position was extremely uncomfortable as her legs were pulled back at an uncomfortable angle. She was actually glad she didn't have to worry about circulation, although her muscles were already beginning to cramp.

Angelus left, and she heard him enter the room next door. She heard his voice, now silky as he called his childe. "Dru, Baby. We have a student. She's going to be listening in. What do you say we give her a good show?"

There was silence for a few seconds, then she heard his voice again. "Come on, Dru," he wheedled. "Don't just lie there, you know how I like it."

Buffy lost track of time. Every second seemed to last for hours, and from time to time, Angelus came back in, brandishing whichever implement he had been using. She remembered what she had seen of Dru's body when she had come in earlier - it was already covered in healing scabs and bruising. After a while, Dru's whimpering stopped, but Angelus didn't.

Buffy was sickened by what she could hear, not only because of what it represented right now, but also by the knowledge that this was Spike's past. He had often told her that Angelus' favourite pastime was making him suffer, but she had never appreciated the barbarity of it before. Probably because he had underplayed it. She knew he had only told her because he had to explain how important it was for them to keep away from his vampiric ancestors. Now, she remembered her lover in wonder, unable to understand how he could be the person he was after a century of Angelus.

At last, even he had had enough. He left Dru's quivering body on the bed and left to talk to Buffy. He leered at her, enjoying the appearance of dried tears which had run unchecked down her face. He approached, pulling her head up by the hair to look at him.

"Tell me, did your Sire ever have to punish you like that? Has he ever had to show you who's master?"

She looked at him mutely, not trusting herself to speak.

"Didn't think so. When I think of all the time I spent on him, and it was all wasted. He just hasn't got it in him. Never did. Still, we'll be leaving soon. I'll just go and get cleaned up, and then we'll get you into your box. Oh, if you promise to be very good, I'll let you clean Dru up. Can't let the minions do it, they might get ideas, but I'll have two of them at the door in case you decide to run."

True to his word, Angelus unchained Buffy cautiously, taking care to keep out of the way of her limbs. He dragged her, legs still tied together into the other room, and two minutes later, a bowl of warm water and some cloths arrived at the door. He had dumped her on the edge of the bed, and she moved up, holding herself up on one elbow.

She approached Dru, not really wanting a closer look at her body. She dampened the cloth, realising it was quite rough, and started to gently wash down Dru's back. As she did so, she found herself making quiet, calming sounds like one would make to a hurt child. Her ministrations seemed to bring Dru around slightly, and she looked up to Buffy's face and smiled slightly. 

"Your hands are gentle like my William's," she whispered. "And your voice is soothing like his. I didn't want to like you. You took him away from me. But I'm glad he loves someone with gentle hands." She sighed, a strange sound which made her seem both childlike and immensely old and wise. "Do you think I'll ever see him again?"

Buffy almost hoped she wouldn't. Not because she didn't want it, but because she was afraid of what would happen if she did. While Spike was elsewhere, he was safe. But she couldn't tell Dru that. Instead, she told her, "I'm sure you will. He'll come and rescue us, just wait and see." 

At this, Dru nodded gently and drifted off to sleep while Buffy continued cleaning her body. With something approaching dismay, Buffy realised she had probably squandered her best chance of escape, but she knew that Dru would pay for any attempt, and her conscience wouldn't let her think further along those lines. Added to that, she didn't know what sort of an effect the injection was having. She had half expected it to make her feel drowsy or calm or something. She felt neither. Somehow, she knew it was a chemical similar or maybe even identical to the one given to her by the Council of Watchers as she approached her eighteenth birthday. She remembered that time, the way Giles had been censored as a result of his resistance to the procedure. She wasn't sure of the details, but she knew he had come close to being fired from his position as her Watcher. 

Too soon, Angelus was back. He threw some clothes at both women and barked at them to dress. Both had dark dresses and shoes but no underwear. Neither dress fitted very well, but Buffy was just relieved to be dressed again. Minutes later, they were hustled out of the room and into one Buffy hadn't seen before. On the floor were three coffins. At a nod of the head from Angelus, the two women were bundled into one each. Looming over them, Angelus looked at them. "Remember you're just corpses now. A sound from either of you, and you'll regret it. If you give anyone a reason to open the coffin before we get to where we're going, there's a good chance it'll be in daylight. We should be at our destination within 24 hours. There's a pack of blood there for each of you, but no more. If you're good, you'll get fed when we get to sunny California. Am I clear?"

The lids were fastened on the coffins, and Buffy felt panic rise in her. She didn't need to breathe, but it was so easy to forget that. She had never been in a coffin before. She knew many vampires rose from their coffins, having to claw their way back to the surface, but Spike hadn't done that to her. She had awakened in his arms and seen his eyes full of love for her. She tried to imagine that the satin padding of the coffin was Spike's body cradling her as she tried to sleep.

A short while later Buffy was aware that her coffin was being handled, and none too gently. Then she knew she was in a vehicle of some kind, and she let the movement of the vehicle lull her off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8 - Journey's End?

Chapter 8 - Journey's End?

True to his word, Alasdair had made sure they were on the road early next morning. Spike had had an uncomfortable night, knowing that both the women he cared for were hurting. He knew Buffy was aware of Dru's suffering, and somehow that made everything worse. 

As they approached the outskirts of the city, Spike continued to direct the journey. He had never been there before, but he felt Buffy pulling him as they went. As they approached the city centre, he was frustrated as the one-way system forced them to go off in the wrong direction for a while before they could get back to following her. He knew she was close, and every fibre of his being yearned towards her.

At last they crossed a bridge over the River Clyde, and left the centre of the city. This part shared its Victorian heritage with more central areas but was less affluent. Spike continued to direct their journey, but he was confused. Something had changed. At last, he told Alasdair to stop in front of a doorway and before the vehicle had pulled to a halt, he was out, a blanket wrapped around him, the other members of the team hot on his heels. 

He entered the building, a communal entrance with several flats, none of which seemed to be occupied by the appearance of the boarded up windows. Once inside, he headed down a flight of stairs, reaching a door at the bottom. Two kicks and the door was down. He entered the flat at a run. There were no immediate signs of occupation - no carpets, no furniture. Unerringly, he chose one of the five rooms which led off the hallway. Inside, he saw the manacles and chains hanging unused from the wall. He could smell her blood on the wrist restraints, where she had pulled unsuccessfully to try to free herself. Sinking to his knees in frustration, Spike raised his head and roared one word, the sound seeming to last for minutes rather than seconds. "Buffy!"

When Alasdair made it into the flat, he was met by the sight of the other three members of the team huddled at a doorway. He elbowed his way through, cursing the circumstance that meant he had driven this leg of the journey so that he had had to park the car before following Spike. 

What he saw when he entered the room wrenched his heart. He was surprised how much he had come to care for the vampire. He knelt on the floor, his head in his hands and his whole body shaking with silent sobs. None of the others had been willing to approach him, but as Alasdair entered, Grianne followed him. The two approached, the highlander's reserve making him unsure how to react. Grianne had no problem. She knelt on the floor beside Spike and pulled his shaking body closer, cradling him as one would a weeping child. 

From the doorway, Giles watched. He had fully intended to kill Spike. The sight before him was a long wayfrom what he had expected. He knew about the childe/Sire bond, but his understanding was that the childe should be dependent on the Sire. The opposite was not supposed to happen. Childer were supposed to be disposable. Seeing the vampire so obviously distressed was, quite frankly, amazing.

One by one, the others came into the room. None had anything to say. Recognising that Grianne was doing the best any of them could for Spike, Alasdair suggested the others check out the rest of the flat. It was Stephen who found the note. Wordlessly he handed it to Alasdair. The envelope had one word, written in an archaic, flowery hand. It said _Spike._

It took some time for Spike to recover. He knew she was gone, and he knew they were just too late. He had felt the wrench in directions a while before they arrived, and had wondered why. He felt his body stop shaking, embarrassed at his lack of control. He raised his eyes to see Grianne's eyes looking at him, sparkling with unshed tears.

As Spike pulled himself to his feet, Alasdair approached him, holding out the envelope. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he reached out a hand to take it. He recognised the writing immediately, and ripped it open. There were two sheets of paper - the first was a letter.

_My dear boy,_

_Just in case you find this place, I thought I'd leave a note. It's your formal invitation to a little party I'm planning. I now have your two favourite whores, and I plan on making good use of them. Of course, it's only because I miss you so much. I would have stayed, but I'm on a timetable. It's surprising, but it seems Dru was right about that visit to Sunnydale she saw in her visions. Silly bitch just didn't get the time scale right. And even better, one of the things I need is one of the things I most want to do. The only thing missing, is your dear self. So, hurry and join us. Only then will my happiness be complete._

_Angelus_

He passed the note to Alasdair, who in turn passed it on. The second sheet was separately folded, and Spike opened it, staring at it for several seconds. It was a sketch of Buffy. Angelus always did have a talent for drawing - especially faces. His speciality was faces lined with pain or agony. This was no exception. Spike knew Angelus hadn't really hurt Buffy yet, but in the drawing, her face spoke of a pain he had never seen in life. There were tears falling down her face, and it made his heart break to look at it. He was pulled from his contemplation of the sketch by Alasdair.

"He knows, then," he said. "He knows about the prophecy. We have confirmation. Still, at least we know where he's gone. But he's right. He needs to hurry. The ritual requires a certain stellar alignment which occurs only every two hundred and fifty years. And that's in just under three weeks, and he's got to break her first. And he must know that Slayers who are turned don't break easily."

Spike looked at the highlander. "Not only does he know, he's counting on it."

John had been shaken by the exhibition of raw emotion he had seen. He had never seen anything like it, and was almost starting to revise his opinion of the vampire. He tried to be businesslike. "Can you confirm where she's gone?"

Spike raised his head. "No, not here. Her blood's calling to me here. It's all I can feel. Once we get out of here"

Alasdair nodded his understanding. "Did you find anything else?" he asked the others. 

John nodded. "There're a couple of bodies in another room. It's not a pretty sight."

Stephen added, "The note was in the only furnished room in the place. There's a bed in there. It's been well used."

Spike knew exactly what he meant. It was typical that a bed was among the only furniture in the place. When you live with Angelus, a bed isn't somewhere you feel safe and secure. It's the most terrifying place on earth. Noticing where Stephen had pointed, Spike left the room. He had to make sure.

The bed was covered in a rumpled, bloodstained sheet. There was a bowl beside the bed and it was still filled with pinkish water. He raised the sheet to his nose, needing to be sure. The relief which flooded him when he knew it was only Dru's blood there almost made him faint. He could smell nothing of Buffy on it. He lifted the cloth from the water and did the same. That time, he got the faintest scent of her, almost swamped by the smell of blood. He knew she had done the service for Dru that he had always done, and that she had done for him when Angelus permitted it.

When they got back to their vehicle, Stephen pulled out his phone. He made a couple of calls before he found someone who could help him. When he had, he turned to Spike. "How would he travel? I mean, how would he be sure not to catch a suntan?"

"Coffins," Spike answered. "You'll be looking for at least three coffins. If he's in a hurry, they'll be flying."

Stephen relayed this. He obviously didn't get the information he wanted. "Come on man!" he shouted into the phone. "You can't have many planes with three coffins booked on them, now can you?" After several moments of question and answer, he ended the call.

"Three coffins on their way to Los Angeles. The flight leaves at ten." He looked at his watch. It was nine-thirty. Alasdair pulled out a map, and threw it at John.

"Find me the quickest route to the bloody airport," he shouted, heading out into the traffic.

Of course, traffic is always at its worst when you're in a hurry, and this was no exception. When they at last made it to the motorway, it was 9.45. Stephen had spent the time on the phone, trying to persuade someone to hold up the 10am flight, but the Watcher's Council didn't seem to carry much weight with the airport and airline management. As they pulled off the motorway at the airport exit, Grianne muttered a few quiet words towards the vampire and he slumped in his seat.

"I thought it'd be better to leave him here," she told the others. "The state he's in, he'll go into demon face and terrify everyone in the place. I'll have to stay with him."

As the others ran into the terminal building, Grianne looked at her watch. It was five past ten. They returned fifteen minutes later, shaking their heads as they approached the vehicle.

Alasdair opened the door to speak to Grianne. "We're too late. Stephen's calling the Council. If Angelus is on his way to Sunnydale, we need a team there now. The Slayer is new and her Watcher's fairly inexperienced. Then he's going to book us on the next flight to LA. Oh," he added. "I think you should do that spell soon. Preferably before the plane lands. He's got to start trying to break her soon."

Grainne nodded. She had hoped it wouldn't come to that. "What about him?"

"How long can you keep him asleep?" Alasdair asked.

"Indefinitely, as long as I'm close to him," she answered.

"Right," Alasdair said. "I don't think we can arrange coffins at short notice, but he'll have to fly as cargo, and it should be possible to make sure he's on the same plane as we are. Is that close enough?"

Grianne looked worried for a moment. "On the plane should be fine. I'm not sure about before and after the flight. I mean, cargo will probably be taken to a separate area from passengers."

Alasdair gave a weary sigh and got back into the car. "Any other ideas? How do we keep him subdued until we get to Sunnydale? He's almost out of control with worry. You saw him at the flat - and since then. Has he been in human face at all while conscious?"

"What about the spirit separation spell? Surely if his body and spirit are separate, he won't be able to move. You can just rejoin them when we get there." Giles sounded less than happy at his own suggestion, but no one came up with better.

"Ok, it's agreed." Alasdair was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. At last he saw Stephen approach. He got in, and explained what he had achieved.

"Right, next flight isn't until tonight at eleven. We're booked on it. Now the bad news. The Council won't send a team. The quote was, 'The Slayer is there, and teams are needed elsewhere.' There was even an implication that they'll recall us too."

"Ok," Alasdair added. "Now, what do we do until the flight? We could do with somewhere quiet and private for Grainne to do her stuff. Let's take a room or two at one of the airport hotels and spend the day there. We still don't know enough about what's going to happen if this prophecy goes ahead, and a bit of brainstorming might be in order."

It was a standard hotel room, of the type you would find anywhere. It hadn't been easy getting an unconscious Spike up to the room, but in the end they found a service elevator and a linen basket and succeeded. The brainstorming session had achieved precisely nothing, unless you counted Giles' headache. He and Stephen had gone for a walk, leaving Grainne and Alasdair to do the necessary magic. Spike now lay on a bed, Alasdair hovering close to him. Grianne was laying out her supplies. Buffy's flight was due to land within an hour or so, and it was time to separate her body from her spirit.

The silver cross lay on the table in front of Grianne. It was surrounded by a circle of sand and a variety of herbs had been sprinkled over it. Alasdair watched her as he sat close to Spike, monitoring the vampire while the witch's attention was elsewhere. He couldn't follow her words as they were muttered fast and low. He suspected he wouldn't have understood even if he could hear, as he knew that much of her magic was rooted in the past of her country - the language probably Irish Gaelic and separated too long ago from his own first tongue.

At last, the cross started to glow, not too bright, but an eerie silvery light. Immediately, Grianne started to mutter again. Alasdair knew this was the second part of the spell - the one which would tether Buffy's spirit close to her body. As she finished her incantation, the cross stopped glowing, and she sat, breathing hard, her eyes closed as she tried to recover energy for the next spell.

Spike seemed to be stirring, and Alasdair was glad he had taken the precaution of tying him up - and of getting Grianne to make sure he couldn't break the rope.

Spike opened his eyes, looking blearily around for a moment or two until his memory returned. As it did, his face changed, his eyes moving from blue to gold, and he tried to pull at his bonds.

"We were too late, Spike," Alasdair hoped his voice was soothing. "We missed the plane - she's gone to LA and from there to Sunnydale, but we're due on a flight tonight."

Spike blinked slowly a couple of times, as if he was trying to let this sink in. With an effort of will, his face reverted and he slumped back onto the bed. His eyes seemed to become unfocussed as his attention was elsewhere for a while.

"She's confused," he said, surprised.

"Grianne's just done the spell. Her spirit's close to, but no longer in her body. She should be able to see herself, but she'll have no physical sensation until we revert the spell."

Spike nodded, relaxing for the first time since he had come to. "So, are you going to untie me?"

Alasdair shook his head. As Spike started to struggle again he added, "You were out of control for a while there. We need to be sure you'll stay quiet until we get to Sunnydale. So, we're going to do the same spell on you, but we'll revert as soon as we're there."

Spike looked at the man he had started to consider a friend. He looked at the sincerity in his marmalade eyes, and nodded reluctantly. He could feel his demon straining to get loose as it hadn't for a long time. "When?"

"As soon as Grianne's ready. A couple of minutes?" He looked at the witch who nodded in confirmation.

"You'll need this," Spike told her, taking a ring from his finger. "Haven't taken it off since she gave it to me four years ago."

Alasdair nodded, silently taking the ring and handing it to Grianne. Within ten minutes, Spike's eyes were once again closed, and his ring glowed softly on the table in front of the witch. As she had before, she started the second part of the spell, intoning the same words as before. This time, it was different. Instead of the glow fading, it grew brighter until it was almost blinding in its intensity. It winked out quite suddenly, and Grianne slumped forwards. Alasdair jumped up and ran to her. When she raised her head, her expression was shocked.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I disconnected his spirit from his body, but it wouldn't tether. It's free, and I don't know where it is. I don't know if I'll be able to reconnect them."

Alasdair smiled slightly. He knew Spike had acquiesced rather too readily and now he knew why. 

"He's gone to her," he told the witch. "He's gone to Buffy. I think we've just got to trust him to come back when we need him."


	9. Chapter 9 - Sunnydale Revisited

Chapter 9 - Sunnydale Revisited

Buffy had drowsed in the coffin. The initial panic when she had felt the lid close had gone and she had started to enjoy some time alone to remember the happier times of her life. She was convinced Spike would never hold her again. She knew he was trying to save her, but she couldn't see how he could fight his bond with Dru. She could sense his helplessness and despair when he arrived at the flat too late, and shortly after that, she felt only peace. That confused her at first, but she sensed some sort of magic. She couldn't perceive that he was in any danger, so she forced her thoughts away from him. 

She remembered a day shortly after they had arrived at the croft which had been their home. It was late August, and the days were still quite long. They had found a cave which stayed dry most of the time and they had used it as a base. The car Spike had stolen was large and had plenty of room in it too, especially when they had managed to black out the windows. 

That day, they had spent daylight in the cave. She and Spike had spent the previous night cutting down some trees, and they planned to start roofing the croft when it was dark. After some sleep, they found a deep pool at the back of the cave. It was very dark inside - if it hadn't been for their enhanced night vision, neither would have been able to see at all. The water was icy cold, but when you are cold blooded, that isn't important. They spent hours in the water, swimming and wrestling with each other. 

Of course, they also made love several times - both in and out of the water. It was the first time since before her sixteenth birthday that she had spent a whole day simply having fun. There was nothing she needed to slay, and no impending apocalypse. She didn't have to take her mom to hospital, and she didn't have to report to Giles. There was no school, and no papers to be written. She felt completely carefree. Spike revelled in showing her the advantages of her new lifestyle. Certainly, not having to breathe was a distinct advantage when swimming. She loved so much about her new way of life, but top of the list was Spike. 

As the Slayer, she had always dreaded the prospect that one day she would become what she had fought for so many years. Yet, when it happened, she embraced the new life she had. Part of her acquiescence was due to the fact that there was very little conflict within her. Her demon seemed to be so repressed that she had yet to feel its presence significantly. She suspected it would only come to the fore if she or someone she cared about was in danger. 

She spent some time that day, trying to let her face change, but found it took a great deal of concentration. Spike found the whole thing highly amusing. He told her she was very unusual. Most newly risen vampires had problems maintaining a human appearance, and some never managed it. The only thing which routinely forced it to the front was hunger. She had fed from Spike that day, as she had regularly since she awoke. He took upon himself the job of taking blood from their small flock of sheep.

The amusing thing was, that during their flight from California, one of the ships they had taken had been full of cattle being transported from Argentina to Europe. On board that ship there was a huge cache of veterinary supplies. Spike had raided them and armed himself with what seemed to be a lifetime supply of tranquillisers. They used these to subdue the animals before draining some blood from them. Even the needles and other equipment they used to take blood from the animals came from that cache. There was an element of trial and error in knowing how to use them, but Spike showed he was able to turn his hand to most things, telling her there had to be some advantages in his longevity. It seemed that there were times when he was with Angelus, when he had decided to travel without minions. When that happened, it fell to Spike to do whatever needed to be done for Angelus and Darla. Bringing herself back to the present, Buffy was saddened when she realised she might never feel so happy again.

She started working out how she could get out of her current situation. Nothing in her training as a Slayer or what Spike had told her about Angelus had prepared her for the level of barbarity she had seen in his treatment of Dru. She knew it was only a matter of time before she was treated in the same way, and she desperately needed a way out. Her mind wandered to the obvious - sunlight, stake - but it was a question of opportunity. If she spent all her time tied hand and foot, it was unlikely either would be available. She hadn't had another injection, and she hoped it wouldn't happen again. She knew she was still suffering from its after-effects.

Having thought around her situation too many times, she drifted off to sleep. After a while, she was aware that something changed. She seemed to be dreaming. She was somewhere dark - well, that fitted with her memory. She was in a coffin. But, she wasn't constrained. She felt she could move, but it was different somehow. Looking around her she could see her own face a few inches away. Still thinking she was dreaming, she didn't let the vision of her own face worry her. It was such a long time since she had seen her own face, it was good to look at it, even if the darkness was so deep she couldn't see it in the detail she wanted. As time went on, she began to wonder whether she was dreaming. Dreams normally had a little more action that this, didn't they? Becoming more confused, she tried to work out what was happening. 

She had heard of having an out of body experience, but didn't know if that was possible for vampires. It was strange, and in some ways comforting to be floating there, apparently inches from her body, and she started to wonder if she could move further away. She tried, and found herself in what she assumed was the baggage hold of a plane - surrounded by other people's luggage and two more coffins. She tried to move further, and could feel she was somehow still attached to her body as if on an elastic cord. Pulling it gently, she moved to the smaller of the other two coffins and went inside. She saw Dru, apparently asleep. She tried calling to her, hoping to give her some comfort by knowing she was near, but Dru didn't seem to notice. Her curiosity now piqued, she left Dru and went to the larger coffin. Inside she saw Angelus. He was not asleep, and his face was a mask of frustration. Spike had always told her he hated inactivity. She wished she could do something to him, something that would stop him hurting Dru further, but even though he was awake, he was completely unaware of her presence. She allowed her tether to drag her back to her own coffin while she did some thinking.

As she tried to understand, she knew he was there. She could see nothing, she just knew Spike was close. She felt him surrounding her, making her feel safe. Straining every sense in his direction she could just make out what he was trying to communicate. He had some friends and together they were trying to rescue her. They had separated her body from her spirit so she couldn't be broken - regardless of what Angel did to her. He would be with her until he needed to go back to his own body. The rest of the flight passed with them both wrapped in each other in a purely spiritual conjoining which mirrored in many ways their first physical coupling on the night he had killed her.

They were both aware when the plane landed, and when the coffins were unloaded. They both knew that the coffin was placed in a car - a hearse - and moved through streets which were familiar to both. They were both aware when, several hours later, the coffin was opened, and they both saw Angelus' leering face as he looked inside.

"Aw, she's asleep," he started, his voice a parody of concern. When there was no response, he started to shake her roughly. At her lack of reaction, he snarled and lifted her body out of the coffin, throwing it across the room. Buffy felt herself follow her body, glad she couldn't feel the pain such a landing must have caused her. She could feel Spike's anger at how her body was being treated, and she tried to console him, to make him feel better about it. When there was still no reaction, Angelus moved to the other, as yet unopened coffin and pulled off the lid. He yanked Dru out and threw her towards Buffy. She screamed softly as her head hit the floor, but lay where she fell, as always, submissive to her Sire.

"What's the matter with the bitch?" he yelled, lifting Dru by the shoulders and pulling her closer to the other body. Dru stifled a sob of pain and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they had a strange glazed quality and her voice had become sing-song.

"I smell magic, good magic, magic from the green land. She's here, but not there, I can feel her, and"

Spike knew she had sensed him and hoped she would not pass on the information. Dru smiled wickedly to herself. That she could do. There were so few ways in which she could defy her Sire, but she could do that. And if it meant she could feel her darling William close to her for a while, however vaguely, it would be worth the punishment if Angel ever found out.

"And what?" Angel demanded.

"And she's not part of her body any more. Something has separated them. She can't feel her body's pain."

Angelus growled in anger. He had planned in minute detail how he was going to break her. It had filled his thoughts during his enforced inactivity on the plane. Unable to contain himself further, he roared once more and went out to bring mayhem to the streets of Sunnydale.

The building was full of minions. Spike's spirit wandered at will through the old factory, recognising minions who had been there before he left Angelus. It seemed that Angelus had kept the place going while Spike had been gone - apparently making it his base during the intervening years.

Wandering further, he found what had always been Angelus' room. He entered through the closed door with trepidation even though he knew he was safe for now. This room had so many memories, and none of them good. The bed was large and covered in red silk. The chest in the corner was as he remembered it. He knew it held the implements Angelus used on his childer. Minions were normally taken to the basement. This room was for 'family' only. His spirit returned to Buffy and hers comforted him in the sadness he felt in knowing that nothing had changed.

Angelus' mood was no better after a night spent rampaging around Sunnydale. He'd killed, not just to feed, but simply to assuage the demon in him which was furious at being unable to bend the ex-slayer to his will. Angelus' demon was not in the habit of being denied. The only thing which could ever control it was his Sire, and she was gone. 

In a part of his mind which he tried to pretend didn't exist, the man who now shared his body with Angelus regretted that. He could see the carnage created by his demon and knew he had to be stopped. But the only remedy that ever existed was gone. Darla would have taken him in hand, would have punished him for such unnecessary excess - not out of any altruistic motive but simply because of the danger it brought to the family. It made the existence of all vampires more precarious as it showed that humankind no longer had anything to lose by fighting back.

Just before dawn the next morning, Angelus lurched back to his lair. Minions scattered before him as they saw him, tattered and blood splattered. His demon face was in evidence. Arriving at his room, he spotted Dru asleep in his bed. She woke when she heard him enter, quickly getting up and awaiting instructions. The demon wanted to rend her. The man managed with a major effort to banish the demon temporarily and the human face returned.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"I .. I put her in my room, Angelus. I didn't know what to do. Didn't think you'd want her left there."

"Get out!" was all he managed. Dru ran. She had expected him back all night and had expected to suffer for what had happened with Buffy. She knew she still would, but she was glad of the respite. She ran to her own room and crawled into bed beside Buffy's still body, holding her and through that contact, feeling her William. For the first time in many years, she felt something close to contentment.

Spike spent the day hovering close to Buffy, and they both did what they could to bring Dru comfort. Dru could sense both and was surprised that they seemed in many ways like a single entity. She started to realise the bond which existed between Spike and Buffy and understood how she had lost her childe. Happy as she was to feel him close again, she knew she had lost him finally, and with that knowledge, came the understanding of what she had to do.

When they reached the hotel in Sunnydale it was midday. Alasdair and the rest of the team managed to get Spike's apparently dead body onto a bed. Stephen had agreed to meet the Slayer and left the others to try to put Spike back together again.

Two hours later, Grianne's attempts to recombine Spike had failed. She was exhausted by a combination of jet lag and the magic, and had returned to her own room to sleep. The others waited for Stephen's return in the room which currently housed Spike's body. When he arrived, he looked bleak.

"What happened?" Giles asked, his face showing his concern.

"I met the Slayer and spoke to her Watcher. I'm going to patrol with her tomorrow night. She already knew Angelus was back. Sounds like he was a mite angry last night. The death toll attributed to him is thirty from last night alone. We've got to come up with a plan. Meantime, we should all get some rest."

Almost as soon as the sun had set, Angelus was up and showered. He had called Dru to his room earlier and she had seen to his immediate needs. She didn't mention the ex-slayer. She knew better. Angelus went out to meet someone. He needed some clarification on the ritual he needed to perform, and he had left that job in the hands of some minions who lived, not at the factory, but in an apartment close to the local library. These were rather special minions. They had been hand-picked for their knowledge of the arcane. They rarely visited the factory, and each remembered previous visits in their nightmares. They understood their job, and they were very good at what they did.

Angelus had considered making both his childer, but realised that would take too much of his time. To subdue a childe took time. The power they took from their Sire could be used against him unless he subdued them completely. They were both too intelligent. He could never trust them - not even with the bond. If anyone could break that bond, it was these two.

Walking into the flat, he greeted them. One appeared to be middle-aged, and he sat at a large table surrounded by ancient tomes. The other looked younger, and sat at a computer screen. 

"Good evening, Quentin, Joanna," he began. "I've come to see how your research is progressing. What news have you?"

Both had started at his entrance. The fear showed on their faces, and Quentin started to speak. 

"Sire, we didn't know you were back. Please sit down and we'll show you what we have learned."

Smiling at the fear on their faces, Angelus sat, waiting. 

"If I might start by recapping," Quentin started. "The basic prophecy - the one held by the Council of Watchers has some gobbledegook about sharing good and one part being claimed by the agent of evil. Now, that was the original information, and we've had that, well, since you changed me. Now the otherprophecy we've come across recently is more important to us."

_"The agent of the Powers will be claimed for the dark, but the dark will not bury her light._

_Her soul will be retained and shared. _

_To open the Hellmouth requires a warrior who has been taken by the dark. The Key to the Hellmouth is her blood. It must be given freely before her life is ended at the opening between dimensions."_

"That's where we were when you last visited. Now, part of the prophecy seems to refer to Spike and Buffy. This was not accepted by the Council until very recently. The actual ritual seems less specific. It may not actually have to be Buffy you use - it could be any Slayer who has been turned, but I'm not so sure. There are so many specific references to those two, that I know they have a major part to play in this. It would certainly be the most prudent course of action to assume that it refers to Buffy throughout."

He paused, waiting for permission to continue.

"Get on with it," Angelus told him. "You always liked the sound of your own voice. Maybe we should do something about that. You don't really need a tongue, do you?"

Quentin gulped rather noisily. "Well, that's where my colleague came in. She found something interesting."

Joanna looked at Angelus. "Sire, I've been monitoring the information from the Council. It seems they are at last convinced of the danger of your getting your hands on the ex Slayer. They have sent a team to Sunnydale. And there's one more thing. They believe that Spike took part of the Slayer's soul as he changed her. There is no precedent for this, but it is what they believe. It would explain some things. Like the fact that .."

Angelus interrupted. "Dru can't sense him. Of course, she can't sense him because his soul interferes with the bond. So, does he have a part to play in this?"

Quentin took over at that point. "Insofar as he has the other half of the soul, yes. You must keep them from reuniting the soul."

Angelus was thoughtful for a moment or two. "They've found some way to take her spirit from her body. How do we get it back?"

Quentin looked surprised. "Really? I've never heard of such a thing. Of course, without her spirit, you can't break her, can you? I'll get back to the books and see what I can find."

"See that you do. Come to the factory tomorrow night. If I'm happy with what you tell me, you can have some fun. If I'm not"

They both understood exactly what he had in mind.

Angelus returned to the factory in a pensive mood. He knew Spike was on his way. If the Council had worked out the significance of the ex-Slayer, he was sure they would have taken Spike. It hadn't actually occurred to him that Spike might be working with the Council voluntarily. If Spike was a prisoner of the Council, it would be difficult to get his hands on him. While that wasn't important from the point of view of the prophecy, it was important to Angelus. Spike had defied him in a way none of his line ever had without punishment. It rankled badly with the vampire. It was an affront to his pride and it set a bad example to the others. He could even sense Dru's satisfaction though she did her best to hide it. She, after all, was the one most likely to bear the consequences of Spike's treachery. 

When he checked Dru's room, Buffy's body lay where he had last seen it, on Dru's bed. There was no sign of Dru. Still, he decided, Buffy looked too comfortable there. Dragging the unconscious form onto the floor, he removed the clothes she had been allowed for the journey and manacled her wrists to the wall and left her there. He went off in search of his childe.

Dru was eventually found among some of the female minions. He dragged her away while she apologised for whatever she thought she had done wrong. The minions were told to feed and return immediately. When he had Dru alone, he looked at her. She was shaking and apologising. His recent treatment of her had been so severe that she had lost the use of whatever wits she had left. Exasperated, he let her drop to the floor. He could sense something in her had changed. For the first time since he had broken her completely, there was a hint that her loyalty was divided. She had certainly taken to the ex-Slayer in ways he would never have predicted. Given that she had stolen Spike away, Angelus' only concern in that respect was that Dru would have wanted to destroy her rival for herself. It was imperative that he was certain of his childe's loyalty, so he decided on a change of tack.

"Listen, Dru," he told her. "We're going hunting. Just you and me. I know I've hurt you lately, but I've been so angry, and you know I've just got to take it out on someone. I'm going to make it up to you."

She looked up at him, trying to understand the sudden change. "Y..you do still love me, don't you Daddy?" she asked unsurely. Love was not an emotion Angelus cared to consider. He grabbed her by the shoulder of her dress and pulled her to her feet.

"Just get ready. We're leaving in five minutes."

"Yes," she murmured quietly, running towards her room.

"And, you'll be sleeping in my room until further notice, so leave the girl alone. She can have your room for now."

Dru was confused by this turn of events. She inevitably spent part of each day in Angelus' bed, although little of it was actually spent sleeping. He seemed to be trying to be nice to her, and she didn't understand. It had been so long since she had been anything to him other that the sink for all his anger. She hadn't even been hunting for a long time - it was as though she wasn't trusted any more. Confused but buoyed by the possibility of hunting with her Sire, Dru was ready before Angelus.

They left the factory and headed into town. Angelus had been in Sunnydale for long enough that people were more careful than they used to be about being out after dark, but there were always some who either didn't believe the stories or seemed to think it couldn't happen to them. They had both made two kills apiece. It was so long since Dru had been hunting, and so long since she had fed to sufficiency, that she wanted more. Angelus looked at his childe, blood still leaking from her mouth and laughed. It had been too long. They went off in search of further prey.

What they got was more than that. Dru was feeding while Angelus watched. Behind him he sensed another human, and not any human. It was the Slayer. He had never bothered to find out her name. He didn't consider Slayers to be worth consideration. They were normally little more than children, and the fact that Spike had managed to kill three of them didn't persuade Angelus of their ability. He knew Darla encouraged Spike to stalk and kill them, but he had very little faith in his grandchilde's ability. It Spike could kill three, they should not present any difficulty to Angelus.

Not bothering to disturb Dru's feast, he turned to face the Slayer. She was of average height and slight of build. Her dark hair and blue eyes combined with pale skin hinted at a celtic ancestry. She was dressed in black. She watched Angelus as he approached. She was wary but unafraid. She struck first, kicking with a force which belied her size. Angelus staggered back, renewed interest on his face. He hadn't expected such strength.

He retaliated, kicking her to the ground, but before he could follow through on the attack, she had jumped to her feet again. The two continued to fight. Angelus was gaining more and more respect for the girl as they continued. He was so engrossed in the fight that he didn't notice that the Slayer was not alone. His first inkling was the sound of a shot as Dru crumpled to the ground. This noise was immediately followed by a crossbow bolt which hit his chest. It missed his heart, but it was close enough for him not to want to take chances with it. Leaving Dru to her fate, he ran.


	10. Chapter 10 - Nightmares Come True, Too

Chapter 10 - Nightmares Come True Too

Angelus had not been so afraid for his existence for a very long time.He could feel the wood pushing closer to his heart with every step. He made for the factory, considering who should be given the job of removing the bolt. There were those he knew were fanatically loyal to him, but none of them had the skill required. There was one minion who had been a surgeon, so he definitely had the skill, but he wasn't particularly loyal. That was how it went with minions. The more intelligent they were, the less their loyalty. But there were ways to improve loyalty. There would have to be a reward for him if he succeeded, but there also had to be a suitable punishment threatened in case it was unsuccessful.

Once at the factory, the whole establishment was thrown into chaos at the sight of their master's brush with finality. A makeshift operating table was set up and the minion chosen to perform the operation entered the room shaking visibly. The result of his failure had been made clear. His reward would be permitting him to become a childe. Angelus had never made a childe other than at the point of death, but the reward for the service of saving him had to be significant. David had always seemed intelligent, and he had shown himself quite devious on a number of occasions. Although reluctant to spend the time training him, Angelus knew he needed support from someone who shared his blood. In any case, he would make loyalty a thing that earned positive results in the short term for his new childe.

Despite his shaking hands, David knew he was Angelus' best bet. He was an experienced surgeon when Angelus had changed him in a fit of aggression just after Spike had gone. At that time, Angelus had gone to great lengths to make sure that his family of vampires held sway in Sunnydale. He needed to increase his numbers quickly, but had little patience with stupid fledglings. For that reason he had intentionally gone after those who appeared to be intelligent and educated. The fact that David had been into bodybuilding was probably an added asset.

The operation was over in half an hour. Angelus had roared through the pain of having the wound enlarged, but he had come out of the ordeal apparently unharmed. David was elated. He was given a room next to Angelus' own and told to wait until his master was ready to take the next step.

Immediately after the pellet was removed from his chest, Angelus had gone to feed from one of the humans who were kept in the factory. After that, he knew he needed to rest. He knew he would need to feed again before he could cope with the blood loss inherent in making a childe. He lay on his bed missing Dru. She had been at his beck and call for so long, but he was still surprised by his reaction. He had started to drift off to sleep, when there was a timid knock at his door.

Angelus roared his annoyance as a minion entered. 

"Quentin and Joanna are here. They said you wanted to see them." 

"Tell them to amuse themselves until I'm ready," he shouted back.

At about eleven that evening, Stephen returned from patrolling with the Slayer. He assembled everyone in Alasdair's room. Spike still lay immobile on the bed.

"There's news," he started. "But it affects him," he added, pointing over his shoulder at the vampire. "Grainne, do you feel up to another attempt?"

The witch nodded, going to the table where her things were still laid out. She placed Spike's ring in the centre of a new ring of sand, and sprinkled a variety of other powders over it. Muttering rapidly to herself, she held her hands over the ring. The ring started to glow slightly, and after a few seconds, Grianne's chin dropped to her chest. Because everyone had been looking at her so closely, no one noticed Spike opening his eyes.

"Bloody hell," he groaned at them. "Why did you have to do that? She was there. I was with her. We were together." 

They all turned to look at the vampire, his face a picture of frustration and sadness. To everyone's surprise, including his own, it was Giles who spoke.

"Stephen's got some news he thought you should hear. Don't worry, we're going to get her back."

The vampire blinked a couple of times as he heard the steel in Giles' voice. He nodded, and swung his legs off the bed, pleased they hadn't decided to tie him up again.

"So, what's happening?"

Spike wasn't the only one keen to hear the news.

"We - the Slayer and I met Angelus tonight," he started. 

"Is she ?" John asked what everyone else had in mind.

"She's fine. I had my crossbow with me. And as an afterthought I took a tranquilliser gun with me too. Angelus was so busy with Emily, he didn't notice me. Drusilla was feeding, and he let her continue. I managed to get a shot at Angelus. I must have missed his heart, but I managed to get a tranquilliser dart into Dru. He ran, and we've got Drusilla. We've taken her to a secure location."

There was stunned silence for several moments while they took in this fact. It was Spike who spoke first. "Where is she?"

"It's just outside town. We're to go there first thing. I suggest we all get some sleep if we can. We'll be off before dawn."

Alasdair looked from Stephen to Spike. "All of us?"

"Yes, all of us. How do you feel Spike? Is the bond to Dru a problem just now? Should we tie you up?"

"It's ok just now," Spike told them. "Not sure how it'll be when I see her. But, Angelus will find her. He's got dozens of minions at the factory. He'll find her."

"No," Stephen reassured all of them. "The reason the location is secure is because it's been hidden with a variety of spells. Quentin may be able to get through them in time, but we've certainly got a day or two."

Spike had been unable to sleep. His body hadn't done anything lately, and he was worried about Dru. He knew how dependent she was. When Angelus first left them alone, she had clung to Spike for days before she even felt able to be in a different room from him. He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing his Sire again. He had missed her during the past five years or more, but his life had been so full, the pain had been minimised. In some ways, he dreaded seeing her again. He dreaded seeing the expression on her face which told him that he had deserted her. He dreaded feeling the bond between them forcing him to do things he didn't want to do. 

As they approached their destination, Spike felt the bond to Dru trying to reassert itself. It was all he could do not to jump out of the car and run straight to her. He couldn't remember ever feeling it as strongly as he did. He assumed that was because she was afraid. She had been taken from her Sire against both their wills, and that was something that had never happened before.

They had driven out of Sunnydale and continued inland. The road was narrow and dusty with little traffic of any kind. When they eventually reached the place, Spike had to admit that it looked pretty unprepossessing. It had probably been a home at one time, but little remained of home comfort from its outside appearance. The building was intact, but windows had been boarded up. Whether that was because there was no glass or because of one of the current residents, Spike didn't know. 

There was no sign of a vehicle parked outside, and Stephen continued on past the house, driving down a steep slope until he reached a well covered area. It was surrounded by trees, and completely invisible from the road. There was a van parked there already. Adding their own, Spike was glad of the shade from trees around the car. He had a blanket, but it was further to the house than he was comfortable with.

They went into the entrance hall, and from there, through a doorway on the right. Spike could feel the bond with Dru more clearly than he could before. She was off to the left, somewhere, but when he started to move in that direction, Stephen insisted that he stay with the others. He started to remonstrate, but found himself with Alasdair on one side and Giles on the other, each holding an arm and firmly pulling him along with them. Spike knew he would have had no difficulty in getting past them if he had tried, but he forced himself to wait.

The room they entered was spacious, and furnished with a large table and some chairs. They were all invited to sit, joining the two already there. Several of their party obviously recognised the man who was seated at one end of the table, judging by the nods which were directed towards him. The other, a slight, dark-haired girl in her mid teens, Spike assumed to be the Slayer.

The man stood and formally introduced himself.

"Good evening, I'm Michael Barrat, and this is the Slayer - Emily Stevenson. I know all of you from London, of course, except, .." 

He looked rather suspiciously at Spike. Michael didn't look as though he wanted to shake hands, and Spike decided that was ok with him. All he wanted to do was see Dru.

Giles spoke up. "This is Spike, also known as William the Bloody. I can't say he's safe to be around, but I can say he hasn't made any attempt to hurt anyone in the past few days."

Spike put into words what was on his mind. "Where's Dru? I've got to see her, see what he's done to her."

Michael looked at the vampire. "All in good time, first, we need to talk."

"No," Spike replied.

Michael was obviously not used to being thwarted in this way.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I said no. I'm not talking until I see her."

"Well, maybe you should sit and listen. If need be, I'm sure we could tie you up."

Alasdair jumped to try to calm Spike. He could see by the set of the vampire's body that he was struggling for control.

"Spike, please, just sit for a while. You'll see her soon, I promise."

Reluctantly, Spike did as he was asked.

"Now, we have been questioning the prisoner for some time, but I regret we haven't really obtained anything of use. She claims not to have any information on Angelus' plans. I find that rather hard to believe, so we have to consider encouraging her to talk. We have a selection of crosses and other implements which will, hopefully, loosen her tongue."

"Bloody hell, man. You really don't know anything, do you? Angelus won't tell Dru what he's planning. She's a toy. She has visions, and passes the information to him, but he doesn't tell her what he's planning. And if you hurt her, then you're no better than he is. Last time I saw her, she was a mass of bruises and scabs because of him. You're not going to hurt her."

"Well, really," Michael began.

"Wait," Emily spoke for the first time. "He's right. There's hardly a part of her body that hasn't been hurt. Maybe, she'll talk to him, though." As she spoke, she looked at Spike. It was obvious she didn't trust him, and that didn't really surprise him.

"I told you, she won't know anything," Spike reminded them. "But I'll ask, if you want. Just don't hurt her, please."

Michael looked at the others. "Well, what do you think? Can we trust him?"

"I do," Alasdair told him.

"Well," Giles added, "perhaps trust is too strong a word, but I think we should let him talk to her."

On hearing that none of the others had anything to add, Michael shrugged his shoulders and motioned towards the door. "She's this way."

They walked back into the hallway, and down some stairs. The basement had been converted into a prison. There were several cells, and in one of them, Drusilla was chained.

As soon as he saw her, Spike knew she was in one of her lucid periods. There had been a lot of those while Angelus was absent. With her Sire close, there were almost none. When they were all assembled, Spike saw Dru bite her lip as she concentrated on something. All eyes were upon her, and after a few moments, she sighed in relief. It was then that Spike noticed that he couldn't move his legs. It was as if they were glued to the floor. Looking around at the others, it was apparent that they were in the same predicament.

He looked in awe at Dru and realised she was responsible. He had always known that when she was lucid, when the madness was temporarily banished, that she could use some sort of a thrall. She hadn't done it often, and never before had she used it on him. Then, he heard her voice, but he knew no one else had. Her voice was sounding directly into his mind.

"William, my love. Unlock me. The Watcher has the keys."

It was a simple command, and he found his legs moving to obey without conscious effort on his part. He walked to Michael and put his hand into the Watcher's pocket. Michael seemed unable to speak, but his expression clearly warned Spike not to release the other vampire. Keys in hand, Spike unlocked Dru's cell and approached. Taking another key from the ring, he unchained her. She held on to him tightly as she led him out of the cell.

Once out in the main part of the room, an overwhelming feeling of dread overcame Spike as he realised he recognised his surroundings from his recurring nightmare. There was only one thing wrong. In his dream, Buffy was there too. He moved away from his Sire and tried to picture the scene in his head from memory, and then he realised. Although he was quite certain that Buffy was present in the dream, he couldn't remember actually seeing her. He just knew she was there.

Dru was watching him. "What's wrong, my love?"

Spike found he couldn't explain what he was feeling. He tried, but words failed him.

"It's ok, my love, I know. I'll call her, and she'll come. I told her I would call her, and she promised to come."

Dru looked momentarily as though she was far away, and the next thing Spike knew was that Buffy was there. He could feel her presence surrounding him, and he relaxed slightly as she brought comfort to him. Then he felt her mood change, and he knew she had felt his unease.

Dru broke the silence. "Come to me, my William," she crooned.

Knowing that this was his nightmare coming true, Spike still could not resist her call. He took reluctant steps towards her. When he was close enough, she put out her arms to him. She held him close and he put his arms around her. Her head rested on his chest, and they stood together like that for several minutes. At last, she took half a step back so that she could look at his face. 

"Do you remember, my love, that night? The night when I gave you this gift?"

Arms still around her waist he answered, "I remember." 

"It's time, my William. I said I would ask you to return my gift. It's time now."

Spike found he had tears on his cheeks. He could feel Buffy's rising panic and knew that she recognised what was happening from his descriptions of his nightmare. 

Dru's hand moved up, and Spike felt the stake in her hand poking into his chest as she held it between them. He had no idea where the stake had come from. There was no sign of it when she was chained to the wall, and he could only assume she had it hidden in her clothing somewhere.

Unbidden, Spike's own hand joined Dru's on the stake, surrounding her smaller hand with his. The only sound he was able to make were the sobs which he could hear coming from his mouth. He couldn't form a thought coherent enough to dissuade her from what she was going to do.

Then he realised something was wrong. He was holding her hand with his right hand. The stake was towards the right side of his chest - and towards the left side of hers. Light dawned in his mind when he realised that what she intended was her own end, rather than his. The explanation of his response to the dream was now clear.

Understanding freed his tongue.

"Dru, don't do this. Don't make me do this. Please." His voice was a whisper.

"You have to, my love. While I live, you can never be free of him. And I know I will never have you again. You belong to her."

Spike started to remonstrate with her, but she interrupted immediately by placing a finger of her free hand on his lips.

"You know how it is. He owns me. I can't defy him. He hurts me, and I can do nothing about it. Without you, I can't bear it any longer. It's the only way, my love. This is how I want it. I want my life to end here and now, in your arms. You promised you would return my gift. Do it now."

Spike realised that he was shaking. Dru was using the bond between them to weaken his resolve. It felt as if the muscles in his hand were trying to move in two directions at once. He tried to stop the movement towards her heart, but couldn't. Horrified, he felt his hand move, pushing the stake slowly into her. 

As the wood pierced her skin, Dru pulled Spike's head closer to her, capturing his mouth in a kiss. He felt her silent thanks in his mind as she turned to dust in front of him, and denied the support her body had given, Spike fell to his knees among the dust which had been his Sire. Sobs wracked his body as he knelt there. Suddenly there was a cacophony of sound in the background as the others were released from the thrall which had held them immobile and silent. None of them approached the distraught vampire.


	11. Chapter 11 - Repercussions

Chapter 11 - Repercussions

No sooner was he left alone again, than Angelus managed to sleep. He immediately started to dream. For the first time in many years, he dreamt about Spike. It was a familiar scene from the past. Darla was in the background, insisting that he discipline Spike for something. The reason was unclear, but then it often had been. 

Darla was impatient, wanting him for something, and there was no time for the beating he would otherwise have given younger vampire. When that happened, he had a simple punishment. He had first had the idea shortly after Spike was turned, and he had used it regularly since. He drained him. Vampires regularly took blood from one another - it was an intrinsic part of the domination of the childe by the Sire, and it was a regular feature of sexual satisfaction. Normally, the amount of blood taken was not significant. For a vampire to be drained was excruciating. It didn't cause a vampire to dust, it simply ensured the demon came to the fore. A starving demon could do awful things to its host. The pain caused was excruciating. And it lasted after the vampire was allowed to feed. It wasn't often used. Angelus had only heard of it being used by masters who intended to dust their minions afterwards. He was the only master he knew who used it for one he intended to keep. He remembered the exhilaration he had felt, the family blood raging through his veins. It was a feeling of absolute power.

The scene in his dream shifted. Spike was still there, but this time he was with Dru. He saw them holding one another, and then he saw them kiss. The next thing he saw caused him to awaken immediately, gasping for air he didn't need. He saw Spike stake his Sire, and he saw Dru turn to dust. Once fully conscious, Angelus' panic didn't recede as he expected it to. He knew the dream was not just a dream. He knew he had witnessed the end of his childe, and somehow he knew Dru had wanted to set him see it - had wanted him to know that she had ended her existence in Spike's arms.

Bellowing his rage, Angelus cried for the creature he had never loved. He cried for the loss of the one person who owed him complete loyalty, and he chalked up another in the long list of transgressions for which he would force Spike to answer when he caught up with him.

Buffy's spirit surrounded Spike's body trying desperately to give him comfort. She knew it was not enough. Spike was always a very tactile creature. The five years she had spent with him had shown her that. While her presence was helping, she couldn't hold him as she knew he needed to be held. Surveying those around her, she spotted Giles. She had been so wrapped up in what was happening, she had spared no thoughts for the others in the room.

Keeping most of her essence wrapped around her lover, she sent a tendril of her consciousness out to the man who had been her Watcher, and in many ways a father to her. 

"Giles?" she asked him silently.

His face lit up for an instant, recognising her presence.

"Buffy, is it really you?" he marvelled.

"Yes, it's me. Please, do something for me."

"What?" he asked.

"Help him. Give him some contact. He needs to feel someone close to him. I can't, not yet. Please, do it for me."

Giles' initial reaction was one of revulsion. She was asking him to touch the thing that had killed someone he loved. She was asking him to give him comfort. Silently, in his mind, she prodded and pleaded. At last, he moved towards the vampire and awkwardly crouched down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

For the first time since Dru had gone, Spike registered something. He looked around and saw Giles crouching beside him. He must have looked bewildered, because Giles explained. "She asked me to. I don't know how you deserve it, but she cares about you. She said you need contact."

Spike nodded once, and slowly got to his feet. 

"Thing is," he told Giles, his voice soft, "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve her. Never did. Never will."

Angleus' rage was the opportunity Quentin Travers had been waiting for. He had been promised one chance to tip the balance of an age-old feud, and he was simply waiting. Hidden by the chaos caused by Angelus' tantrum, he managed to get to Buffy's body unnoticed. He unchained her, dressed her in some of Dru's clothes, and using a glamour to make her look like Joanna, took her out of the factory. His research on Angelus' behalf had been meticulous. He had simply kept some of the information to himself. 

He understood the prophecy better than Angelus, and he thought he had the means to return Buffy's spirit to her body. There was a place in town where he would be safe. He had hidden it magically, and it was as secure as he could make it. Carrying Buffy's inert body, he headed for it as if the hounds of hell were after him - which was pretty close to the truth anyway. For his service, he had been offered power beyond his imagining, and power had always been his motivation.

The aftermath of Dru's end had resulted in recriminations among those who witnessed it. Shortly after the event, Buffy was compelled to return closer to her own body, as the energy which had allowed her to stray so far had come from the vampire. Spike was silent. Giles was taking his responsibility as regards Spike seriously, and was probably the reason he didn't follow his Sire to a dusty end when both Michael and Emily rushed towards him, stakes at the ready. It was John who eventually managed to impose something like calm when he insisted they move back into the meeting room to try to understand what had happened.

Spike seemed like an automaton. He was supported between Alasdair and Giles as they walked to the other room. They then sat protectively either side of him at the table. The vampire looked like a crumpled parody of himself. His face was hidden in his hands, the effort of lifting his head apparently too much for him. His body shook slightly, tremors which only increased as he tried regain control of his body.

It was Michael who spoke first, his anger barely contained.

"Would you like to explain what happened there? How did he manage to stop us from moving? And why are you still protecting him?"

His look of loathing towards Spike was completely open. It was Giles who spoke in his defence.

"It wasn't him," he began.

"What do you mean it wasn't him? You saw him staking the best source of information we had. What more evidence do you need?"

Giles sighed, silently wondering how he was now in the position of apparently defending the indefensible. "I don't know how much information Stephen shared with you before we got here. Did he tell you that Grianne had performed a spell which allowed Buffy to essentially leave her body?"

There were nods from both Slayer and Watcher.

"Well, somehow, Buffy was there. She spoke to me. It was Drusilla who stopped us from moving or speaking. There have been rumours that she was capable of some sort of thrall - most notably when she wasn't under Angelus' control. The reports of her ability in that direction seem woefully inadequate in the light of recent events, but I believe she was responsible."

"So she forced him to stake her, is that what you're trying to tell me?" Michael's sarcasm was venomous, as he obviously expected his statement to be refuted.

"That's exactly what I meant. Buffy was able to give me some of what passed between Drusilla and her childe. She forced him to stake her so that he would be free of Angelus. There is no direct bond between Spike and Angelus. Spike can only be controlled by his Sire who was, in turn, controlled by her Sire. That link is now broken. I don't know how she did it, but Drusilla found the strength somewhere to deal Angelus a major blow. Without the bond, Spike will have no problems helping us to free Buffy."

The Slayer then spoke. "And what do we do with them when she's free? Surely they both need to be destroyed? She is a liability - a Slayer who has become a vampire. And he … Well, we know he has killed in the past."

The look on Giles' face had changed to fury. "Anyone who wants to lay a finger on Buffy will have to go through me." His voice was barely above a whisper, but he had never sounded more dangerous.

The Slayer blanched a little, but sat straight in her chair, obviously unconvinced.

It was Grianne who broke the silence which threatened to erupt into all out war. "We can't change what's happened. We need to decide what to do next."

Spike had obviously been paying more attention to the conversation than had been apparent. "We go in."

Every eye in the room was on him. His expression was one of grim determination. "It would be best if we could draw Angelus out of the factory for a while, but that will be difficult. He's clever. He's licking his wounds now, and he'll miss Dru more than he'll admit. He's feeling cornered right now. He can't break Buffy, and he knows it. He's lost Dru - and she may not have been up to date with his plans, but he trusted her sight. He's lost that. He's lost the ability to force me to his will, and that will really rankle with him. But, I know the layout of the factory. I've a good idea of how many he's got in there. How many can we get together to mount a raid?"

All eyes turned to Michael. He was obviously not happy at the idea of taking suggestions from a vampire. "How do you know so much? It's what, five years since you've been in that factory. Unless you're trying to set us up?" There was a look of triumph on his face.

Spike decided to ignore him. He turned instead to the others. "You can explain to him how I know, if you like. Now, how many can we put together?"

"Well," Stephen answered, casting a conciliatory glance at Michael and Emily. "There's the five of us, so, that's seven if the Slayer and Michael decide to come along. What are we likely to face?"

"Ok," Spike counted in his head. "I reckon there's maybe thirty to thirty-five at the factory. He may have others stashed elsewhere in town, I don't know, but that's where Buffy is. We get her out and his plan's over, isn't it? Without Buffy, he can't open the Hellmouth."

Giles had listened to Spike's comments and couldn't see anything wrong with what he had said. At least they had the same priority. He was struggling with the ambiguity that had surfaced regarding his feelings for the vampire. A short while ago, his only thought was that he would make him suffer for killing 'his girl'. The more time he spent with Spike, the more he realised that there was much more to him than to most of his kind. He had been kept from allowing his demon full rein for most of his time as a vampire, and since killing Buffy, it seemed as though he had not preyed on humans at all. Buffy's concern for him seemed like more than the childe/Sire bond too. That was unexpected. Buffy seemed to genuinely care for him. He realised he would never get to the bottom of the situation until he could speak to Buffy herself in detail.

It was Stephen who put a damper on things. "We're not going in until we have a plan with a reasonable probability of success. I agree, it would be better if we could get Angelus and preferably some of his minions out of there before we go in. I know we've got the Slayer but without greater numbers, it's too much of a risk. What do you think, John?" 

"I've got to agree. There's too much chance of losing most of our force if we go in right now. We need a plan, and I'd be a lot happier with better odds. I think we should put in some serious thinking over the next day or so and come up with a something. Remember, we have something Angelus wants. Maybe we should make a deal?"

Michael looked confused. "What do we have that he wants?"

Spike spoke up. "Me," he answered. "Angelus wants me."

Michael obviously still didn't understand, and Stephen motioned to him that he would explain later.

Having done what they could, they all returned either home or to their hotel. Alasdair was looking concerned. Spike was obviously worn out by his grief, and he looked if anything paler than usual. They stopped off at a butcher's to get him some blood on the way back. After feeding, he fell into a deep sleep which was haunted by replays of his staking his Sire.

Next morning, the group met again with Michael and Emily at the Watcher's home. There was still a good deal of animosity between the two groups, and it was only Michael's past dealings with the others which allowed him to concede the possibility that they might need Spike. He had cheered noticeably at the prospect of using the vampire as bait. Emily was apparently less happy. She had been Slayer for just over a year as a result of her predecessor being killed in the most recent failed apocalypse. She had a very simplistic attitude to evil which started and finished with the assumption that vampires were evil. She was always on edge when Spike was around. Seeing this, Giles took her aside before the meeting started.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, unsure of how much her Watcher had told her.

"You were Buffy's Watcher. Michael told me about her a while ago. What I don't understand is why you're on his side?"

"I'm not," Giles tried to explain. "If you'd told me a month ago that I'd be in the same room as the creature who killed Buffy and not stake him, I'd have thought you were crazy. But that was before I met him. He's not your average vampire. I know. I was Watcher to an active Slayer on the Hellmouth for over five years. Believe me, I came across a lot of vampires in that time. Most are simply mindless animals, feeding out of desperation. If the demon is starving, they spur their host to feed. They use pain. The Council has done some, er experiments. They've tried starving vampires, and the result is increasing pain until they eventually go mad. It's a horrific thing to witness. And when I saw the result, I was very much of your opinion - that vampires are evil and don't deserve compassion. A starving vampire is extremely dangerous, but most operating on such a low level that you couldn't really consider them evil any more than you could consider a rabid dog or a virus evil."

Emily nodded. She had slain many of that type. They rarely presented a challenge to her. Giles continued. "Then there are the others. With one exception among those I've known, the rest are those who have survived long enough to give some thought to things. They have power, and they will do whatever they can to maintain and increase that power. They are evil. A classic example is Angelus. Spike isn't like either of those. He's been around a long time. He no longer thinks in terms of simple survival. Actually, very little is known of him before he killed Buffy other than his predilection for Slayers. However, since Buffy, there is no evidence of him killing at all. Something happened to him. The current belief is that he took on part of Buffy's soul. I'm not sure about that, and I'm even less sure that the effect is permanent. I'm willing and able to stake him if I think he is going to become dangerous."

He paused to let this sink in. She nodded again. Giles tried to remember a time when his Slayer was this willing to listen and learn, but he failed.

"But, I know Buffy cares for him. She visited me, my mind, yesterday. She asked me to look after him. Her love for him was the paramount consideration in her mind. Buffy had few people in her life she truly loved. There was her mother, a few friends, and me. The nature of her calling made it difficult for her to let others close. I know she kept me out of things after my daughter was born. She cared about her enough that she didn't want me involved with danger. While she didn't love many, those she did love, she loved deeply. I don't understand how she could come to care for the creature who killed her, but she does. And I'm going to wait to talk to her before I make a final decision on Spike. Do you think you could do the same? I'm not saying you should trust him yet. Just, maybe, try not to distrust him. Do you understand?"

Emily had listened very carefully. In many ways Giles seemed exactly what he was - an older, wiser and more experienced version of her own Watcher.

"So you're saying that the real evil is Angelus? And that once we've got him out of the way, we can decide what to do about Spike and Buffy?"

Giles half smiled. 

"Well, we can make up our minds about Spike. If he really has a soul - even part of one - then maybe it's all for a purpose."

I really would appreciate feedback on this. If you're too shy to review (or your comments are more in the nature of constructive criticism) you can email me – cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk. Thanks. 


	12. Chapter 12 - Who is the Agent of Evil An...

Chapter 12 - Who is the Agent of Evil Anyway?

Those who thought Angelus' reaction to Dru's end was excessive were, a short while later, shown just how excessive his behaviour could be. He discovered Buffy was gone just after he called Quentin and Joanna to report to him. The minion he sent found Joanna unconscious - apparently the result of a spell of some kind. Quentin had disappeared. Putting two and two together, Angelus had run to Dru's room to find his captive gone.

His initial rage resulted in the breaking of a good deal of furniture and the punishment of all those minions responsible for security. He had always been a believer in keeping a number of skills among his minions, and Travers had not been the only one skilled in magic - although he was undoubtedly the most talented. Setting these others to work trying to find Travers and Buffy, he questioned Joanna. The news that Quentin had found a way to reunite Buffy's body with her mind was the only key he needed to understand Quentin's betrayal. The ex-Watcher had at his disposal the means to complete the ritual without Angelus.

For the Council team, the first hint that something had changed came from Spike. He knew Buffy had moved, but he couldn't get a clear feel for where. He knew something was shielding her from him. As a result, Spike, Alasdair, Giles, John and Stephen hit the streets that night. Giles still knew where the demon population tended to hang out, and he was adept at getting information. Using his suggestions, they fanned out and visited a number of bars and other establishments which catered for the various tastes of the multitude of demons in the area. 

In fact, basic information wasn't too difficult to obtain. The events in the factory had made such an impression among Angelus' minions that the whole demon community was aware of the betrayal. Since this was the first time in memory that the local vampire master had been thwarted in this way, there was a good deal of amused banter on the subject in the local demon bars, although it went quiet whenever one of Angelus' more senior lieutenants came in. More specific information, such as Buffy's whereabouts was harder to come by. No one seemed to have a clue. 

While the others were out, Grianne used every tracking spell at her disposal to try to find her. She was no more successful.

At one level, Spike was relieved by the news that Buffy was no longer with Angelus. His relief was short-lived when Giles told him what he knew about Quentin Travers. He had never been popular - even among others in the Council - because of his arrogance and empire building. Power was his goal in everything he did, and his knowledge of magic was far in advance of any other Watcher. His only problem was that he lacked natural talent. However, he had spent a lifetime and a great deal of Council resources increasing his knowledge to the point where he could achieve most things if he expended enough effort. They had to face the possibility that he could undo Grianne's spell.

To that end, Grianne immediately contacted her coven in an attempt to strengthen the spell. In another room, Spike was pacing. Alasdair watched him in concern. He had been given the job of making sure Spike didn't take things into his own hands, but wasn't really sure how he could stop Spike from doing whatever he wanted to do. He was relieved when Giles joined them. The two Watchers chatted quietly, catching each other up on recent happenings, while the vampire seemed oblivious. His mind was in turmoil. He understood the need to wait while Angelus had Buffy. That was no longer the case, and although he could sense her to some extent, the bond had no directional quality any more. Grianne had explained that Travers would be able to magically shield himself, and that that was the likely reason. Understanding didn't make it easier to cope with. In some ways, it was harder not to act. If he could have pinpointed her whereabouts, he would have gone, Alasdair notwithstanding. 

Spike had a grudging respect for the tall highlander. During most of his existence as a vampire, humans had been simply meals. During his time with Buffy, they had no longer been food, but neither had they impinged on his consciousness very much. The time he had spent with these humans, and Alasdair in particular, was forcing him to consider them as individuals rather than examples of a species. He found himself liking Alasdair - and he even felt a tentative warming towards Giles - not because of Giles' support when Dru was dusted, but rather because of he had done it for Buffy. He obviously hadn't wanted to help Spike, yet he had put that aside because Buffy asked him to. Despite that, Spike knew he would hurt both men if they got in the way of his saving her. 

Quentin looked around his new 'home'. It was a basement to an office block. The offices above were all unoccupied. The building was simply too close to the Hellmouth, and few tenants bothered to complete their lease period before vacating. It had the advantage of an entrance to Sunnydale's system of underground tunnels, but everything about it was hidden. The spell he used was powerful, and he had had a major job explaining his exhaustion to Angelus after he had first performed it. The spell had been provided by his benefactor, and Quentin was really looking forward to his next audience.

The remainder of the night had been spent boosting the shielding spell. It had to be renewed regularly, and although it wasn't due for a couple of weeks, Travers thought it best to have it at maximum strength and to keep it that way. He had a lot of respect for Grianne. He had met the woman a few times and had apparently dismissed her as inconsequential. In fact, he had secretly followed her work with a great deal of interest. As her superior in the Council, he had been extremely irritated by her refusal to share the details of the magic at her command. She claimed that some of it was the preserve of women, and that most of that was to be kept for use by those of her nationality. He had argued with her, but she had been adamant. He had tried to have her excluded from the Council for intransigence, but had been over-ruled by his peers. 

Reinforcing the spell left him tired, but after a meal he was recovered. Despite this, he ensured his captive was securely chained and then slept. The spell to return her spirit to her body would require most of his reserves, and he needed to be fresh. He planned an audience with his benefactor for the next evening and intended to start work on the Slayer immediately afterwards.

When Angelus had recovered enough to think clearly, he first ensconced himself in his room with David. He had not yet fulfilled his promise to make the ex-surgeon his childe. The bond between them would be weaker than if he had made him a childe as he died. He knew it was a risk, but he was backed into a corner. He knew he needed allies more than ever before, and therefore decided to go ahead with his promise and allowed David to drink from him. When that was complete, he fed from several humans who had been chained in his room for that purpose. 

David found the process enlightening to say the least. When he had been changed, Angelus had allowed him only a few sips of his blood, intending to keep him as a minion. He had wakened with a blood lust which he hadn't been able to quench for months. Angelus kept him chained in the basement of the factory, feeding him the minimum to keep the pain within bounds and therefore keep his sanity. It had been a long time before he had been allowed any measure of freedom. Of course, the freedom accorded his minions by Angelus was never great. Still, he had been a minion, and had done his best to find himself a place in the hierarchy that is vampire society. For the most part, that hierarchy is simply a case of the strongest preying on the weakest. Although not extremely strong, David was far from the weakest of Angelus' minions. In addition, he had been an intelligent and well-educated man, and he knew how to use the strength he had, and when to back down from a challenge.

The power now cascading through his body was amazing. He knew, that as the master's childe, his place in the 'family' was assured. None would dare to challenge him, and he had only to answer to Angelus. Of course, he knew the ways in which Drusilla had answered to her Sire, and he wasn't really looking forward to that aspect of things. Deep down, he hoped that Drusilla had been treated as she had because she was female. He hoped for better. 

He lay on his master's bed watching Angelus feed on the waiting humans. He couldn't imagine that he would enjoy feeding again, having had the chance to feed from his Sire. Everything else faded to insignificance. He watched and became aware of the bond which now melded him to the vampire in front of him. He couldn't read his mind, but he could sense the turmoil which was Angelus' mind at that time. It was a long time since Angelus had radiated his feelings as he did at that moment. Dru had often been able to sense his feelings, but that was largely her own gift, albeit augmented by the bond.

In truth, Angelus was feeling things he hadn't felt for a very long time. At the base of all the conflicting emotions was one he had almost forgotten. Fear. A few short hours earlier, he had been sure he was on the cusp of the greatest achievement of his long career of evil. There was only one being to whom he answered, and she had promised power beyond comprehension to the vampire when the ritual was complete. And now, it was all in ruins. He had lost the ex-Slayer, and he had lost his childe. 

He was surprised how much he missed her presence. In truth, he had often struggled to cope with her madness, unless she was fulfilling his needs for sexual pleasure, or violence, or using her sight for him. Yet, even when he had sent her away, when he had found her incessant chatter too much to bear, he had sensed her presence and found it calming in some way. The hole in his being now she was gone was unsettling. The only satisfaction on that count was the knowledge that Spike would feel her loss even more acutely. He was still unclear how Spike had managed to stake his Sire. He knew that she had somehow forced him to do it, but he didn't understand where the power had come from. It was a puzzle he would unravel at some time in the future - probably during the prolonged period during which he planned to find ever more painful ways of entertaining Spike.

Recovered from his blood loss, Angelus turned to his Childe. He lay on the bed with a dazed expression on his face. He had often wondered what that looked like. He could remember when he had drunk from Darla. He had felt the power, but he had fed from her in the midst of a violent sexual encounter. He was never entirely clear on how much the blood was responsible for his feelings and how much was simply the combination of pain and sexual pleasure which had also been part of the mix. 

When he had changed Dru, she had been suffering from his most recent abuse, and he had actually wondered if he had gone too far. She had been so lethargic, so reluctant to drink, so maddened by pain and weakened by blood loss and the assault on her spirit, that he had actually wondered if she would arise again.

This time, he had allowed David to drink from him without any of the other attributes of making a childe. He simply didn't have time, and he could make up for the lack of childe/Sire bonding at another time. Instead he simply observed for a few moments and then asked, "Feel any different?"

The smile he got from his childe in response appeared rather idiotic, and Angelus realised it would be a little time before he got any sense out of the other vampire. Angered by the delay, he decided to make the most of things. Ordering his childe to strip, he went to the chest to find an appropriate implement - nothing too severe for now - he wanted his company later that night when he had to face the music. He decided a little childe/Sire bonding was in order after all.

It was two hours after midnight. Quentin had slept for longer than he intended, realising belatedly how much strain he had been under getting while Buffy out of the factory. Checking on her still inert body, he made his way to a small room in the basement. He opened the door and pulled a lighter from his pocket. He started to light the myriad of candles which littered the surfaces of the room. 

Directly opposite the door, was what could only have been an altar. Upon it stood an effigy which looked vaguely human - at least it looked as though it had been based on a human form. It was naked and male, about three feet tall, although the genitalia seemed somehow to have been made to a larger scale than the rest of the body. The face had an expression which was difficult to comprehend. The reason for this was the fact that the effigy seemed to have been split in two vertically. There was only one eye and ear. The nose had been split down the middle. Although everything else followed that line, the penis on the effigy had remained intact. 

When he had first found the effigy, Travers had been amused at the apparent arrogance of the appearance, with the extra-sized genitalia and complete penis in an otherwise half body. Having had a number of dealings with the being represented by the statue, he now knew it was more than simply arrogance. 

Candles lit, Quentin kneeled on the floor in front of the altar. He started to intone the beckoning spell.

"Dexter, make yourself known to me, I beseech you. I am your humble servant, and I beg that you acknowledge my unworthy presence."

He knew that his voice shook a little as he said the words. It always did. He had used the spell only a few times before, as Dexter had warned him against becoming an irritation. His demonstration of what could happen should he become an irritation had given him nightmares for weeks afterwards, although no physical marks were left.

He watched from under his eyelids - Dexter liked him to assume a subservient position throughout his dealings with him. Looking straight into the god's eyes was considered inappropriate. The statue started to waver, changing from its apparent sandstone to a living form. The brown of the stone became a paler flesh tone, and the eye opened, showing a darker brown iris as he regarded his agent.

"Why have you requested an audience with me?" The voice was low and gravely.

"I … I have good news. I have the Slayer turned vampire. With your help, I will start to break her today. Then she will be ready for the ritual."

The half mouth smiled. "Good, I am glad my faith in you has not been misplaced." The smile became colder. "Hold out your hand," he commanded.

Unsure of his master's intention, Quentin held out one shaking hand. He braced himself, knowing that Dexter's plan could be to give him pain or pleasure or neither. In fact, as he looked at his trembling hand, a small globe appeared on it. It was about three inches in diameter, and it glowed slightly, the colour a deep orange. It throbbed in his hand, and as he held it, the throb grew, becoming uncomfortable. Seconds later, his hand was painful, the pain growing exponentially as he held the globe. Somehow, Quentin knew he was being tested, and managed not to drop the globe. Every part of his being was concentrating on holding the object, so he almost missed the chuckle which came from the altar.

"Enough, put it away. Your pocket will do, for now."

With one last effort of will, Quentin managed to slip the globe into the pocket of his jacket. As soon as he let go, the pain disappeared. He looked at his hand and found no mark on the skin.

Dexter continued. "The globe will be of use as you break the Slayer. It will give her pain as it did for you, but it will have an added effect. It will also start to break her mind. The process will take considerably less time than trying to break her with pain alone."

Dexter paused, watching the creature in front of him. "You have done well, so far. I will reward you."

As he said the words, the effigy started to revert to its appearance of stone. Quentin was completely unaware of this fact. He had collapsed, and his body writhed in pleasure on the floor. To an onlooker, it would have seemed more like pain, but for several minutes, every nerve in the man's body was hit with the most pleasurable sensations possible, until he at last lapsed into unconsciousness.

Two hours later, Angelus left the factory with David. The younger vampire was moving as if in pain, but moving nonetheless. He followed his Sire with difficulty as he moved through the streets of Sunnydale. The last couple of hours had passed in a blur of pain and pleasure. He knew instinctively that the pain had been kept within bounds, and he was grateful for that. It was no worse than the beatings he had received any number of times from stronger minions while he was still vying for position.

Their destination was quite close to the factory. The building was derelict, and the upper floors largely destroyed. Picking his way effortlessly over the rubble, Angelus led his childe to a staircase leading down. Once at the bottom of the stairs, the appearance changed. There was no debris on the lower level, and even dust had been kept to a minimum. There was a door opposite the stairs, and Angelus entered. The room was small, but there were candles on a table opposite the door, and Angelus lit them. In the increasing light, David looked around. There was an effigy on the table - he assumed it was an altar. Had he seen the effigy which figured in Quentin's recent memory, he would have immediately understood the significance. In fact, neither he nor his Sire had the faintest idea of the being to whom Travers was loyal. The effigy was apparently made from sandstone, but this one was noticeably female. Like the other statue, the sexual organs and mammary gland were somehow out of proportion to the rest of the body, but that fact was less apparent in this case. 

David stood in the doorway, reluctant to get closer to something he didn't understand. Angelus seemed to have forgotten his childe as he went about his preparations. When he was satisfied everything was ready, Angelus turned to David, motioning him into the room. When the door was closed, he gave his instructions.

"Stand back and don't get involved. This won't be pretty. I may .. need some help when it's over. Let's say it's your first loyalty test."

The smile on Angleus' lips was not a pretty sight. David said nothing, simply moved as far from the altar as the small room would allow.

Angelus knelt before the table, head lowered and intoned this request.

"Sinistra, make yourself known to me, I beseech you. I am your humble servant, and I beg that you acknowledge my unworthy presence."

For several moments, nothing happened. David watched his Sire, surprised to find he was shaking slightly. He found it difficult to put together the apparently humble creature in front of him with the one who had beaten and used him so recently. He was so intent on watching his Sire, that he initially missed the change in the effigy. It was the way Angelus' shoulders tensed and his head jerked up slightly that gave him the clue. He looked towards the statue and saw that it seemed to be moving. 

"Why have you summoned me? Am I a slave to be summoned by the likes of you?" The voice was quiet but dripped malice.

"No, Sinistra, it is I who humbly ask your presence. I have something to report - something you should know."

The figure regarded the vampire kneeling in front of it before answering, "Continue,"

Angelus took a deep breath. "The ex-Slayer is gone. She was taken from me. I can find no sign of her. I humbly ask that you help me to locate her as you did before."

As David watched, Angelus seemed to tremble more obviously. The statue seemed to be pulling itself up then he realised it was actually growing. It kept growing until it must have been over six feet tall. David realised he was shaking too. Nothing in his life or during the five years since his death had prepared him for what he was witnessing.

"Fool!" The voice was deeper than before. "How could you lose her? She is central to my plan - to my need to defeat him. Let me see,"

The voice was silent for a while, the single eye closed in concentration. When it re-opened, it was wide with anger.

"He has her. You have lost the sacrifice and given her to him. I cannot locate her, but his aura is all around her. You will be punished for this. You will return to me only if I summon you or if you have captured her again. Now go!"

As she spoke the last two words, her one arm pointed towards Angelus as he cowered on the floor. He immediately fell forwards, his body spasming in indescribable pain. The statue slowly returned to its original size and lost its animation, becoming again a simple stone effigy. David watched apparently paralysed until he was sure the thing which had taken over the statue was really gone. Then he ran to his Sire, who was curled in a ball, shaking, his eyes closed. How long he remained standing over him, afraid to touch the vampire, he didn't know, but it seemed like forever. 

At last, Angelus' muscles seemed to relax a little and he lay on the floor, panting as if he needed air to survive. After several minutes more, he opened his eyes, searching for David. As soon as eye contact was made, David crouched closer to his Sire and helped him to stand. They made their way back to the factory with David supporting Angelus as they hurried back to safety before the sun rose. About a hundred yards from the factory, Angelus pulled away from his support, determined to walk the rest of the way unaided. He managed it, but the expression on his face as he fell on his bed a short while later showed David how much it had cost him. Angelus motioned to him to lie next to him, and he did so, tentatively putting an arm over his Sire as he fell asleep.

I have been told that Fanfiction.net sometimes doesn't accept reviews. If this happens, please contact support@fanfiction.net. I haven't had any problems reviewing other stories, so I don't know why that's happening. __

Alternatively, you can email me at cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk with your comments.


	13. Chapter 13 - Reanimation

Chapter 13 - Reanimation

The day was the longest and most frustrating Spike had known in his existence. He wanted to be out finding Buffy, but knew there was little he could do in daylight. Various others scoured the town for a sign of Buffy, but they all came up blank. He tried to sleep, reasoning that he needed to be fresh as soon as the sun set so he could do his share of scouring, or if need be, beating up anyone who might have information. His rest was fitful at best. So much had happened recently, it was hard to realise it was only days since he had last held Buffy. It felt like a lifetime.

Giles surprised everyone - not least Michael and Emily - with his knowledge of the underworld in Sunnydale. He had left records, of course, but Michael hadn't paid too much attention to his predecessor's information on the town itself, judging it superfluous to the task of simply keeping the vampire population under wraps. Giles took the other two to a variety of demon haunts, entering fearlessly ahead of a very nervous Michael and an intrigued Slayer. Her training had never implied that she needed to know about the places her natural enemies socialised. Had she known such places existed, she would have assumed it was her duty to destroy them. In truth, that was one of the reasons Michael didn't share the information. He knew she wasn't up to taking on demons in bulk as yet, and, like her, he could think of no other course of action regarding the places.

Giles sighed heavily as he understood the thinking of his two companions. He had almost forgotten a time when he had thought similarly. He smiled despite himself when he realised that his relationship with Buffy had been very much a two way affair. She had learned from him, as the Council intended, but he had learned at least as much from her. He had learned about spontaneity. He had learned that demons, per se, were not necessarily evil. He had learned that some were minor irritations who could actually be useful at times. 

The main problem was that the questions being asked this time necessarily involved mention of Angelus. That name seemed to seal mouths more effectively than super glue. The fear of the vampire in town was palpable. No one seemed to know of Travers' and Buffy's whereabouts, and Giles had the distinct feeling that even if someone did know, they would be more likely to inform Angelus than them. And Quentin knew what he was about when it came to hiding. Giles had never liked the man, but he had a profound respect for his intelligence, if not for his morals.

It was late afternoon when the group reassembled in the room Spike and Alasdair shared. Technically, there was no reason for them to continue sharing a room, but there was an unspoken understanding that the others felt more comfortable knowing Spike was at least being monitored, and Spike found the man's presence comforting. He had almost smiled when he found himself thinking that particular thought. He remembered what Giles had told him in the aftermath of his staking Dru. He had said that Buffy knew he needed contact. She knew him so well. Of course, the contact he needed was hers, no one else could compare with that. But he had always been that way. His demon hadn't changed the man that much. As a man, he hadn't really fitted the current conception of manliness. Then, men weren't supposed to care, weren't supposed to need to be touched, and certainly weren't supposed to cry. He failed dismally on all three counts.

Seeing the resigned expressions on each of the faces, his shoulders slumped. He had hoped against hope that there would be news and that as soon as it was dark they could rescue Buffy. He told them his intentions as soon as they were all together.

"I'm going out tonight," he started.

Alasdair was the first to react. "What, and hand yourself over to Angleus? He may not have Buffy any more, but he still wants you. If we want to counteract this evil, we need to reassemble Buffy's soul. We need you for that. It's not just about you any more, you're a necessary part of the puzzle."

Spike knew his friend was right, but his mind was made up. "I'm still going. If anyone wants to come along …" 

He left the sentence open as an invitation and peace offering at the same time.

It was Giles who responded. "How about you patrol with Emily tonight? She was going to do some snooping as well as slaying tonight, and together, there's probably not much you couldn't handle."

"Especially if I come too," added John. Everyone looked at him in surprise. He was experienced, but had no special powers. He caught their expressions of disbelief.

"Well, I need to keep in practice. And, as you say, with the Slayer and Spike, I shouldn't be in any real danger."

Spike soundlessly nodded then added, "And who's going to persuade the Slayer I wouldn't be more attractive as a pile of dust?"

Giles smiled at the vampire. "I think I persuaded her to wait. She wants to find out more about you before she stakes you. I think she wants to talk to Buffy too. Why don't I call her and suggest you meet her at her house?"

Within half an hour, Spike was standing outside the house Emily shared with her father. Needless to say, he wasn't invited in, and he and John were left standing outside while Emily went to finish getting ready. Spike wondered if Emily's father knew about his daughter's calling. Joyce had known about Buffy, of course, but not right away. It had been secret for over two years before Joyce knew. 

At last, Emily came out, quickly closing the door behind her. She gave Spike a look that told him she wasn't quite sure why she was doing this, and headed for the first cemetery on her route.

Quentin greeted the sunset with a feeling of purpose he hadn't known for a long time. He was so close, and he knew exactly what he had to do. Checking Buffy's inert body, and the manacles which held it in place, he started to assemble what he needed for the spell. He stepped outside for a few moments and returned with a dead woman. He had found her close to his lair, walking alone, apparently held up by the fact that the heel on her shoe had broken. It was only a few moments after sunset, but she knew it was dangerous to be out. Quentin broke her neck effortlessly and carried her back to his lair. He fed from her, about half draining her, making sure there was enough for a decent meal after the spell. He knew he would need something to counteract the exhaustion he expected to feel. 

Travers mentally berated Angelus for giving Buffy the last dose of the muscle relaxant he had stolen from the Council. One dose should have been enough to keep Buffy quiet until she was at the factory. The second would come in useful now, but it was gone. Double-checking Buffy's bonds and finding them secure, he began the spell. He used some of her hair at the centre of a circle of sand. He suspected the spell he was using was similar to the one used by Grianne, but it's ancestry was Cornish, it's relationship with the Irish spell lost in time. He didn't understand the words he spoke, but that wasn't necessary. As he spoke, the lock of blonde hair glowed briefly before fading. He heard a gasp from Buffy and knew he had succeeded, before exhaustion took him and he fell to the floor.

Buffy was initially shocked to be back in her own body. She knew what was happening, of course, as she had been watching her captor's every move, and he was not above talking to himself as he worked. The first sensation was of pain. Her body had been abused since her spirit left it - not specifically to cause pain, but simply by manacling her to the wall without any effort being made to make her body comfortable. Her arms screamed from the abuse, and her legs had no feeling at all until she managed to move them out from under her. That wasn't easy, but she eventually achieved it. The chains from her ankles to the wall were just long enough to stretch her legs out. She suspected Quentin hadn't realised that. She was so much shorter than average, and it was only by virtue of this fact that she had any freedom of movement.

A few attempts showed her that the chains had been magically enhanced, but that didn't stop her trying to break them. To that extent, she was in luck. She didn't break the chains, but she did manage to pull the cleats holding them out of the wall. She smiled when she managed the first of them. The brickwork was crumbling and no match for a vampire, never mind a Slayer-turned-vampire. She managed to free herself from the wall quickly, dragging the heavy chains with her as she moved towards the unconscious vampire.

Slayer senses to the fore, she instinctively looked around for a stake. Seeing none, she turned her attention back to Travers who was starting to move. Before he could register what had happened, she had kicked him soundly in the head. He flew back across the room, hitting his head on the floor as he landed. Dazed, but not unconscious, he shakily tried to stand. From the distance, Buffy kicked again, only just keeping her balance as the extra momentum from the chains and hooks attached to her ankles span with the movement. The chain hit Travers first, smashing into his leg shortly followed by Buffy's albeit bare foot. The chain had obviously broken a bone, and the foot hitting the leg shortly afterwards, drove broken bone through the flesh of his leg, eliciting a scream. He started to back away, but his leg wouldn't support his weight, and he fell backwards. 

Taking another look around for something to finish the ex-watcher, she spotted the door to the room they were currently occupying. Not her weapon of choice, of course, but wood was wood. Leaving Quentin for a second, she approached the door, giving it a resounding kick. It splintered accommodatingly, and she picked out a large shard - too big at one end to get her had around, and not particularly pointed at the other. Without another thought, she approached Travers as he whimpered on the floor. He realised he had miscalculated. There was much more power in the spell than he had expected, and breaking it had cost him dearly. With an almighty heave, Buffy rammed the narrower end of the wood into his chest and watched with satisfaction when he turned to dust beneath her.

Reaction taking over, Buffy slumped to her knees in the dust, feeling herself start to shake. Gathering her thoughts, she stood up and tried to walk, finding it difficult with the chains still attached. Not really expecting success, she tried again to break the chains, and was surprised when they presented no difficulty. Assuming this must be a result of Travers' demise, she found the room which housed the effigy he had used. Unsure what would happen, she stretched a hand out to touch the statue. It felt like stone. She lifted it. It seemed a little heavier than she had expected, but not by much. Returning to what was left of Travers, she checked the remains for the globe she had seen him pocket. There was no sign of it. Holding her prize, she walked out into the night, glad Travers had seen fit to leave her in Dru's cast off clothing.

As soon as she was out of the building, she cast around herself, trying to identify a direction for her Sire. She quickly picked up a direction, and hurried towards him.

The instant Buffy had stepped out from the magically hidden building, Spike knew it. With a sigh of relief, he span around, picking up her direction. His companions looked at him in surprise. They had just managed to dust a small group of fledglings, and had been discussing where to try next. With a cry of "I can feel her," Spike ran into the distance. His companions looked after his receding form. John knew he would never keep up, and Emily shrugged.

"Ok to carry on?" she asked. 

"Of course," he replied. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

The Slayer smiled at him. She had been very impressed with this man. He had no special powers, but he was incredibly skilled and experienced. She knew she could take him almost any time, if she wanted to, but she had a good deal of respect for him regardless.

Of course, with both vampires heading towards each other at high speed, it wasn't long before they met. Ignoring the strange statue in her hand, Spike launched himself at her, holding her tight, completely oblivious to the tears which were running down his cheeks to mingle with hers. They didn't know how long they stood like that, it felt like seconds and a whole lifetime. They didn't speak, because there was nothing to say.

Eventually, they drew apart, and Spike led her towards the hotel and the group waiting there, without once taking his attention from her face.

At the hotel, Grianne knew as soon as her spell had been broken. She felt the power of the augmented spell rebound on her, winding her as she absorbed not only her own energy, but also the energy she had borrowed from the coven, and she gasped at the suddenness of it. She immediately picked up the phone by her bedside and called the others. Within a few moments, the whole group was assembled in Alasdair's room while she explained what happened.

The first consideration was that they needed to tell Spike, but they couldn't contact him. Giles left a message on the machine at Emily's home, but other than that, all they could do was wait.

When Spike reached the room with Buffy, there was an initial stunned silence, followed by words which fell over themselves and crashed in the air around them. Giles alone was silent, walking towards Buffy and the statue she carried, his eyes damp with emotion and his head full of amazement at the object she was carrying. She saw him approach, and she glanced at Spike, trying to make him understand that he needed to let her go for a moment. She put the statue down on a table, and moved towards her former Watcher. The two held each other for several minutes, neither speaking. Spike looked on, feeling jealous despite himself. He needed to touch her so much, needed to reassure himself that she really was here. But he knew how much she had cared for her Watcher, and his love for her was evident on his face, so he watched, and resisted the impulse to drag her away from him.

When order was eventually restored, and the story told, discussion turned to the statue. Giles looked at it with the reverence of a true scholar, touching it gently, as if he expected it to break in his hands.

"I've got some ideas on it, of course," he told the others. "But I'll really have to consult my books before I'm sure." 

A look of disappointment crossed his face as he realised his books were in London, half a world away. "Maybe Michael has something I can use," he said, trying to console himself, but not really holding out much hope.

It was Stephen who looked at his watch and realised something was wrong. It was after one, and John should have been back long before this. He called Emily's home to be told that she hadn't returned, and then Michael. He hadn't heard from her either. With shock, they realised something must have happened to them after Spike left.


	14. Chapter 14 History Repeated

Chapter 14 - History Repeated

Abandoning plans for spending some time alone together, Spike and Buffy headed out for the streets of Sunnydale accompanied by Stephen, Alasdair and Giles. They met up with Michael and decided to split up to look. Reluctantly, Spike agreed that it made sense for he and Buffy to be part of separate groups. Giles and Michael went with Buffy and Alasdair and Stephen with Spike. Armed with a crossbow, Stephen was the most able of the others and Spike wanted him to go with Buffy, but he had been overruled by the simple expedient that Giles would not leave Buffy's side, and Michael still didn't trust him. Grianne stayed at the hotel to try a location spell and promised to contact Michael and Stephen as soon as she had something.

Expecting Michael to know Emily's routine as regards patrolling, Giles looked to him for a suggestion of where to start. The Watcher's look of irritation showed he didn't have any idea. He had simply considered the details of patrolling to be the Slayer's prerogative. He was only interested in what she found while she was out, and always met her next day to add to his records. Giles seethed inwardly at the man's naivety. He really wanted nothing more than to strangle the other man, believing that it was a miracle the Slayer had lasted as long as she had. He also had a heavy heart as the search so closely reminded him of his actions when Buffy disappeared. He desperately wanted to speak to Jenny and Lizzie and make sure they were safe. Their home in London was comparatively safe - as safe as he could make it. He knew he had no particular reason to be afraid for their safety, it was just that the memories of Buffy's disappearance were fresher than they had been for years.

Spike was suffering too. He was wondering how soon the others had been attacked after he had left. He hadn't given them a single thought when he sensed Buffy. She had been the only thing on his mind. He hadn't thought in terms of abandoning the others, simply of finding her. Buffy knew how he felt, and had tried to console him before they separated. She told him that it was a Slayer's role to meet danger alone, and that John was as experienced as a mere mortal could be. It didn't help. For the first time in a long time, Spike was feeling guilt that didn't have anything to do with the woman he loved, and he vowed to avenge them if anything had happened to them.

__

Earlier that Night

Angelus was delighted. He had awakened as the sun set feeling renewed. The pain caused by Sinistra was like that. Excruciating at the time, it lasted only because of the way it caused every muscle and tendon in his body to tense to the point that they were all damaged. After a couple of hours sleep, he had fed from his childe, leaving the other vampire weak from blood loss to go in search of food. He had then returned to sleep to let the healing take place. He was irritated to find that David had not returned to his bed after feeding, and made a mental note to explain the rules a little more carefully later.

He found himself full of energy. Feeding from a childe was always more potent than feeding from a human and the only thing he had ever experienced which was better, was the very few times he had been allowed to feed from his Sire. He went to look for his childe and found David with some female minions, who had obviously been trying to improve their position in the factory by sleeping with the master's childe. He couldn't really blame them for that - from their point of view it was sensible. He picked his childe up by the scruff of the neck and threw him against the wall.

"Get yourself cleaned up and be ready to go out in fifteen minutes," he growled, leaving the room in disgust.

David was ready in ten minutes and waited for his Sire nervously. He knew he had irritated Angelus, but he hadn't been with a woman since Angelus had allowed him to feed from him, and he really didn't understand why he shouldn't do that. He knew, of course, that Angelus hadn't shared Dru, but that was different, wasn't it? She was female. When Angelus appeared, he took a look at his childe, feeling his nerves and confusion and decided to at least start to explain why he was angry before they went out.

"You belong to me," he whispered, his voice somehow more menacing because it sounded so gentle. "I may allow you to spend time elsewhere, but that only happens when I permit it. Now, get ready, we're going to hunt."

With that, he had walked briskly from the factory, leaving a now even more nervous David to follow in his wake. Nervousness was soon forgotten when the hunt began. Angelus made no attempt on the few helpless types they saw. There were always a few of those around - drunk or drug addicted or even homeless and under-nourished. He looked for the young and fit - people whose blood would be full of life and vigour. Even so, they presented no difficulty for a master vampire and his childe, and both were soon sated. They had started to head back to the factory when Angelus sensed her presence. He knew immediately who it was, and apart from the fact that she was the Slayer, he had a personal score to settle with her. She had been partly responsible for his recent brush with finality.

Motioning to his childe, he changed direction, heading straight for where the two were walking in the cemetery. They seemed quite relaxed, chatting about various moves and their effectiveness. Angelus didn't know who the man was, and he didn't care. Seeing the Slayer had given him an idea. His understanding of the ritual required the blood of a turned Slayer - it didn't specify an individual. The other prophecy may mean Buffy herself, but that didn't seem important.

Keeping well back, Angelus instructed his childe to take out the man, leaving the Slayer to him. Nodding, he agreed, and the two pounced. David was surprised by the man. He was stronger than he looked, and he really knew how to move. Even so, he was no match for the vampire. As the fight continued, John knew he was weakening rapidly. He looked to Emily to see how she was faring, and knew she was also hard pressed. Seeing a chance, he pulled his favourite stake from his pocket and rammed it towards David's chest. David's arm came up in a violent sweep which knocked the stake out of John's hand, sending it flying over the ground.

John did his best to evade the next attack, but he was simply too tired. Before he knew how it had happened, the vampire had him in a death grip, and with a grin, he wrenched the man's head, hearing the satisfying sound of his neck breaking. He allowed the body to drop to the ground and turned his attention to his Sire.

Angelus and the Slayer seemed to be evenly matched. Neither seemed tired as they attacked each other with a ferocity he had never seen before. Watching carefully for an opportunity to be of help, he followed the pair as they travelled along a path lined with ornate headstones. This part of the cemetery was old and many of the stones were broken and crumbling. The debris on the ground didn't seem to hinder either combatant. In fact, both used it to their advantage, constantly finding a better place from which to launch their next attack. 

Despite the speed of her reactions, David read a second ahead of time the Slayer's intentions regarding one particular slab of marble which lay on the path. Jumping in front of her at the crucial instant, Emily had to change her mind about the next move, and Angelus used that to his advantage. He delivered a major blow to her head which caused her to fall heavily on the same piece of marble, hitting her head hard on a corner. She lay there, unmoving, blood trickling from the back of her head and her nose. With a cry of triumph, Angelus picked up her inert body and carried her back to the factory, leaving John behind.

It was the group including Spike, Alasdair and Stephen who found John. Grianne had had no luck with the location spell, and both groups had searched apparently at random. Spike recognised the tang of blood while they were still some way off, as he had several times earlier that night as they had come across Angelus' kills. This time, Spike was drawn, not to the body, but to a slab of marble about fifty yards beyond. Leaving the other two to check John for signs of life, Spike continued to the slab, running a finger over the blood stain which was already dry. He lifted a finger to his lips, and tasted the blood. He knew immediately it was Slayer blood - it's taste at the same time new and familiar to him - certain aspects of the flavour consistent with Buffy's and the other Slayers he had drained.

By the time he returned to the others, they had confirmed John was dead - something Spike had realised as he ran past. His news, that Emily's blood was found a distance ahead, was met with despair. Spike knelt by the body, allowing every nuance of scent to register on his conscious. After a few seconds, he lifted one of John's hands. There was blood there, but no apparent wound. He gently ran his tongue along the blood, ignoring the protest from Stephen as he did it. It took only a second to recognise the blood as family - and close family at that - even if it was unknown. He stood up to explain his actions to Stephen who was standing rigid and red-faced in front of him, with Alasdair trying his best to restrain him.

"It wasn't his," he started. Seeing no comprehension on Stephen's face, he continued. "The blood on his hand wasn't John's. I reckoned it must come from whatever attacked him. It's a childe of Angelus - can't tell you more - thought there was only Dru, but maybe he's made another."

As soon as the fact that the blood Spike tasted wasn't John's had penetrated Stephen's consciousness, he relaxed slightly. Concentrating on regaining his composure, he handed Alasdair his mobile phone to make the necessary calls. All three waited in the cemetery for the ambulance to come and collect John. Very little was said, as each was lost in his own thoughts. Spike hadn't known John for long - certainly not as long as the others, but he had liked and respected the man.

It was almost dawn before they returned to the hotel. It took Spike a moment or two to realise that Stephen had taken Alasdair aside to see if he wanted the spare bed in his room, thereby allowing Spike to have some privacy with Buffy.

Both were very subdued. They hadn't been apart for more than a few hours before - not since the day she was changed. The tension between them was almost overwhelming, yet for a long time, they simply lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, saddened by the recent events. Buffy had met neither John nor Emily, but she instinctively felt for the younger Slayer, and she knew that Spike was upset about John.

Emily's next conscious thought was that she was chained to a bed. Angelus and David flanked her on the bed, both watching as she tried instinctively to free her wrists and ankles. Angelus had spent the past few hours deciding how to make the most of this new opportunity. It was imperative that no mistake was made now. He knew what had happened when Spike changed Buffy. Somehow, it looked like he had ended up with half her soul. There was nothing to suggest that had happened when he killed his other two Slayers, but it was simply too big a risk to take. The last thing Angelus wanted was a soul. So, much as he wanted to do it, David would be the one to change Emily. It's just that Angelus would be giving the orders. 

He had explained his plan to David, without giving the actual reason. He didn't want anything to take away from his childe's eagerness. David was delighted. He couldn't understand why his Sire was allowing him to claim the girl, but he was more than glad to agree to the suggestion that they share her blood.

Angelus lay back on the bed and watched David's face change. He saw fear on the Slayer's face, and his demon rejoiced. As David thrust his teeth into her neck, she tried to scream, but no sound came out. The actual draining took some time, as David stopped regularly to allow his Sire to drink the blood that welled from his fang marks. She was barely conscious when she felt a wrist thrust against her mouth, and later, she had no memory of drinking from it, but she realised she had.

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A shorter chapter this time. I hope to update at least once more this weekend, but it depends on other things. As always, reviews and comments are very welcome.


	15. Chapter 15 More Than One Way to Break a...

Chapter 15 - More than One Way to Break a Slayer

It was well into the day when the human members of the team assembled - this time in Stephen's room. All were sombre, hardly believing how everything had turned from triumph to misery in a few short hours. Arrangements had been made to transport John back to England for burial. Michael had gone home the previous night intending to pack as soon as he got confirmation of what they all knew must be the case - that Emily was dead and that another Slayer had been called. When it came, a few hours after he got home, there was no ambiguity in the statement. She was dead, presumed changed by Angelus.

Giles, Stephen, Alasdair and Grianne were struggling to understand what the current situation could mean for the prophecy. It was apparent that Buffy was an integral part of the prophecy, but the actual ritual to open the Hellmouth was less specific. The requirement was for an ex-Slayer turned vampire, and Emily would certainly fit that bill. They all knew that if that was Angelus' plan, the girl had a great deal of pain to look forward in the days leading up to the ritual. The need to storm Angelus' lair was still urgent, but the means of doing so less apparent than before. They had lost effectively three of their number the previous night, and they would have been significantly outnumbered without the loss. There was disbelief and annoyance at the way Michael had simply stood down from his responsibilities as soon as his Slayer's death was confirmed. Stephen agreed to contact the Council to try to impress upon them the necessity of sending a further contingent of operatives to Sunnydale. Giles and Grianne headed for Michael's home, the former to check his library for information on the statue Buffy had brought, and the latter to find out if something could be done to do the same service for Emily they had done for Buffy. The requirement of a small personal item seemed simple enough.

On arrival, Michael made it clear their presence was unwelcome. He was trying to pack, and while he hadn't started on his books, he would want to pack them soon, and it was really most inconvenient. To Grianne's request, he was even more negative.

"Emily trained here, and she came here to report daily, but I hope you don't think there was anything unprofessional about our relationship. She didn't leave personal belongings here. You'd have to ask her father about that."

Grianne was trying to be patient. "Have you told her father yet? Has he been told?"

Michael looked up, surprised by the question. "That's hardly my job, I'm her Watcher, not her guardian. I'm sure the Council has informed him…" This last was said in a tone which made it clear he wasn't sure at all.

Giles decided to get some information. "What's he like, Emily's dad?" 

Michael looked up in annoyance.

"How should I know? Never met him."

"Did he know his daughter was the Slayer?"

"Don't think so, at least Emily never talked about him knowing."

"How did she explain her absences - being out late at night?"

Michael just shrugged.

Giles was getting closer and closer to doing bodily harm to the man in front of him. He remembered the subterfuge Buffy and her friends had to go through to keep Joyce from knowing what was going on in the early days. He couldn't believe that a father would allow a sixteen year old daughter to be out walking the streets as the Slayer had to, without some sort of an explanation. If it were Lizzie, ..... It was Grianne who interrupted.

"Giles, why don't you stay here, see what you can find among the books? I'll see if Stephen's ready, and he can come with me to see Mr. Stevenson. At the very least, we have to make sure he knows about his daughter's death. And if we can get something personal to her …."

Giles nodded his agreement. As she walked out of the room, Grianne put a comforting hand on Giles' arm - an action which said clearly, "He's not worth it, leave him alone."

Once she had gone, Giles sat among the books, desperately trying to find a reference to the statue and doing his best to ignore Michael's comings and goings, and the way he seemed to keep dumping other things on the table where he was working.

Michael's mind was in turmoil. He was a third generation Watcher, and the first in his family to be assigned an active Slayer. He had been so pleased when the appointment came through. His father had slapped him on the back and told him his grandfather would have been very proud. 

Michael had always been ambitious. Nothing less than the most senior position on the Council would satisfy him, and he knew that a successful period with a Slayer was a pre-requisite for that. He had had such plans. Since Buffy Summers, no Slayer had lasted more than fourteen months. His Slayer was going to last as long as Buffy or even longer. Everything was done by the book. Everything was reported in minute detail. The girl had promise - she would probably have been a natural athlete even without her Slayer abilities - and she was intelligent too. 

Now, his dreams were in tatters. He would have to pass the rest of his days as a minor Watcher - doing endless research, and never having any real power. He felt no real remorse for the dead girl - not even the thought that Angelus would intend to break her impinged on his conscience. She was a vampire now, and therefore the enemy. He owed her no consideration. In fact, it was her fault that his career was over. He couldn't understand the reactions of Giles and the others. Slayers were, by definition, expendable. They generally lived only a short time. Another had been called, and someone else would be given the job of training her.

Grainne and Stephen arrived at Emily's home in sombre mood. They knocked at the door several times before it was eventually answered. When it was, they were surprised at the appearance of the man. If he knew of his daughter's death, a dishevelled appearance and a day's growth of beard were to be expected. What they saw was far in excess of that. He obviously hadn't shaved for longer than one day, and the body odour apparent implied more that a few days since he had bathed or showered.

He didn't invite them it, simply turned his back on them and left the door open. They followed him inside. The living room was a mess. Dirty clothes and dishes littered every surface. Their host seemed completely unaware of their presence as he shuffled across the room and flopped into a chair which seemed to be surrounded by the majority of the debris. Unwilling to sit anywhere, Grianne started to speak. "Mr. Stevenson, I don't know if you've been informed already. It's just, … we believe your daughter was killed last night."

She paused, waiting for a reaction. The man simply raised his eyes to hers, looking blearily at her. Seeing the response, Stephen decided to have a go.

"Sir, we think your daughter is dead."

This time there was a response. "Of course she's dead. She's been dead for four years. And my son, and my wife. All dead."

As he spoke, his eyes flitted to a photograph which was half buried under some junk mail on the side. Grianne went to the picture, holding it up. It showed a family. The man - he was hardly recognisable - was with a smiling woman and three children. The youngest was obviously Emily.

Grianne showed the picture to Stephen, and asked him to keep Mr. Stevenson busy while she went to try to find something personal to Emily.

Creeping up the stairs, Grianne opened each room in turn. The first bedroom looked rather like the living room with an unmade bed and littered floor. She closed the door, and tried another. This was a bathroom, and unlike the other rooms she had seen, it was clean and more or less tidy. The next door was locked. The last door opened to show a normal teenage bedroom, although unlike many, it was immaculate. There was nothing on the surfaces, and the bed was made to perfection. Walking in, Grianne looked in a drawer and found a small photograph in a frame. It showed the smiling woman from the photograph downstairs holding a tiny baby - she assumed it was Emily. Putting it into her pocket, she went downstairs to find her colleague.

He was standing, watching Mr. Stevenson as he watched the television. Seeing Grianne's expression, Stephen made their apologies and the two left.

"Her room is immaculate," Grainne told Stephen as they headed to the car. "It's an island of sanity in that … place. How could it be that no one knew how she was living? There were tears in her eyes, and Stephen knew it was not just because Emily was dead. The poor girl had never had the chance to live.

Emily awoke to pain and hunger. Her neck ached badly, but she found herself unable to raise a hand to check the damage. She was still chained to the bed. Two naked vampires drowsed by her side. She recognised them immediately. 

Angelus had spent the time while they waited for Emily to return checking out his childe. There was no sign of a soul on him. He had killed to feed, without compunction, and they had both made the most of the aphrodisiac quality of Slayer blood. The next stage was to find out whether she had retained her soul.

David was still reeling from the whole experience. He had a childe. He had drunk from a Slayer. The buzz still permeated everything he was. The time spent with Angelus had been amazing. Painful, but amazing. There was no doubt as to who was the Sire between them. If anything, Angelus had been even more brutal than usual over proving his dominance, but the gift he had been given more than compensated David for that. 

At a nod from Angelus, David left to get some food. There were always a few humans kept chained up in the factory for those vampires who could not or were not permitted to hunt. David returned a few moments later with a young woman over his shoulder. She was writhing, desperately trying to get away, despite her obvious knowledge that it would be impossible. Handing her to Angelus, David watched as his Sire presented her neck to Emily. "Are you hungry?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Emily nodded. Her demon strained towards the blood she could sense flowing in the proffered neck. Her human part silently vowed to starve before she would kill.

When he saw her reaction, Angelus knew. She had retained her soul. Shrugging his shoulders, he snapped the woman's neck with a negligent shift of his arm. As the now dead body slumped in his arms, he offered the neck to Emily again. 

The ex-Slayer was still nauseated by the prospect of drinking from the woman, but the demon was starving. She hadn't realised just how narrow the knife-edge was that had stopped her from killing the woman before, until she felt her head involuntarily edge towards the woman. She was unable to stop as her fangs sank into the neck and she drank until there was nothing left.

Reluctantly, Angelus started to dress. There was business he needed to attend to, and everything with Emily seemed satisfactory. Ordering his childe to watch Emily, and get to know how to use the bond between them, Angelus left.

Angelus went to where Joanna was being held. He was still trying to make sure he had all the information which Travers had uncovered before his treachery. Joanna wasn't being particularly helpful. Firstly, she was completely terrified. Angelus had had her kept in chains since he found that Travers had gone. She was starving and had been beaten. It was obvious she hadn't known of Travers' plans. When he realised that, he called two of his oldest minions. They had been with him almost from the beginning, and they were completely loyal. He ordered them to take her to feed, and then return to her base with her so that she could check through everything to make sure he had all the information he needed on the ritual.

He returned to the bedroom where David reclined on the bed, watching Emily closely as she lay, still chained in place. She seemed surprisingly calm. He looked at his childe, sensing a certain amount of confusion in him. "Well?" he asked, needing an explanation.

David got up from the bed, and walked over to the other side of the room. Angelus followed, wondering what was going on.

"She's confused. She's expecting me to hurt her."

Angelus wondered why he was being so dense. "Of course she is. Her Watcher'll have told her all sorts of scare stories about how vampires break their childer."

"No," David replied. "I think it's more than that. It's almost as if she wants us to hurt her. I wish I knew more about her, but she's not talking. I think, would it be possible, …." He knew the idea was sound, but he didn't think his Sire would agree.

He tried again. "Would it be possible to break her with … kindness rather than pain." The last words had come out in a rush, due to his nervousness.

Angelus regarded his childe with renewed interest. It was an idea which would never have occurred to him. Like David, he wondered what her human life had been. Apart from being the Slayer, had her life been so awful that a little kindness could break her more quickly than pain? It was crucial to his plan that she was completely in David's power, and he didn't have time to spare.

David watched as the possibilities flitted over his Sire's face. He had half expected to feel his Sire's fist for daring to suggest that they try something different. Emboldened by the fact that Angelus actually seemed to be taking his suggestion seriously, he added, "I really think it will work. It's as if she's so used to the idea of being hurt, that it wouldn't make an impression on her."

The conversation had been carried on at levels well below the limit of human hearing. Deciding to trust David, Angelus gave his assent. They would try it for a while, but could change if it didn't show quick results. 

Leaving the two of them alone, Angelus went to get on with some outstanding business, but arranged increased security outside the bedroom first. Just in case.

As soon as they were alone, David unchained her. She was surprised, and was about to make an attempt to escape, when she found her Sire's wrist in front of her mouth. The implication was unmistakable. He wanted her to drink from him. She knew from her Watcher that this was unheard of. Sire's blood was the greatest reward a childe could be given. It was the most powerful she could have. Unable to resist, she bit into his wrist and drank.

He had to stop her before he became weak. She snarled at first, as the wrist was taken from her, but reverted to human face quickly. She was surprised when David started to stroke her wrists, massaging away the pain caused by the manacles. He then turned his attention to her neck, where the wounds caused by his fangs were just starting to heal. He licked the raw flesh, knowing it would speed healing, and was rewarded by a sigh of pleasure.

The next few hours were a revelation to Emily. She had been almost seventeen, but memories from before she was twelve seemed more like dreams than reality. Ever since her mother, sister and brother had been killed in a car accident, her father had blamed himself for their deaths. It was as though she didn't exist. In fact, the other driver was found to be responsible, and the compensation payment had been enough to make sure the house was secure and that there was food on the table, but ever since then, Emily had been alone. She had shopped, she had gone to school, and she had looked after herself in every way she could. She had tried to look after her father, but he didn't even acknowledge her presence, so after a while she gave up. He picked at food she left in the fridge and watched television.

Being called as the Slayer was a revelation. It gave her something to believe in, and in many ways it was an escape from her actual life. She had always done her best to hide what was happening at home, and therefore found it difficult to make friends. Michael's companionship, such as it was, was the closest thing she had to friendship. 

The first hours of her new life were spent being loved and cherished. David made love to her gently, apparently caring only for her pleasure. He watched in satisfaction as the fear and anger which had filled her mind when she had wakened were dissipated in the pleasure he provided.


	16. Chapter 16 – A Slayer and Her Vampire

Chapter 16 – A Slayer and Her Vampire

As soon as she could, Grianne set up to complete the spell she believed would save Emily the pain she must already be enduring. As she had done so often recently, Grianne muttered the incantation over the table, in the centre of which lay the framed photograph she had taken from Emily's room. Everything went perfectly, but it didn't work. She didn't understand it. She wasn't particularly tired, and her recent practice of the spell meant it was if anything easier to perform than usual. She repeated the spell three further times before she gave up. She could think of no explanation for its failure. 

In fact, Emily was happier than she could ever remember being. Her previous life seemed like a bad dream, and the reality of the present, a welcome awakening. She was young and in love – with all the intensity that might be imagined. She craved physical contact in every sense. The photograph, which had been important to her at one time, was completely forgotten. 

Stephen had at last heard from the Council regarding a force to counter the threat from Angelus. The answer was a reluctant yes. They would arrive in twenty-four hours, and be able to attack shortly after that. Nothing less than the destruction of the factory was expected. Another Slayer had been called, and she and her new Watcher would be sent to the Hellmouth as soon as possible, but it was recognised that might be too late to avert the currently threatened apocalypse.

Meanwhile, Giles had exhausted Michael's meagre supply of books. He was absolutely disgusted that any Watcher could function without the standard texts, but he had found enough to confirm his suspicions. He returned to the others to report.

It was well into the day when Spike woke. Despite spending the past days in human company, and keeping largely human hours, it just wasn't natural for him to be up and about while the sun was shining. Then, of course, they had been too busy to sleep for a long time. He propped himself on an elbow and looked down at Buffy, marvelling at seeing her by his side again. He let out a sigh of contentment, and raised a hand to push some stray hair off her face. Roused by his gentle touch, she shuffled closer, moulding her body to his. After a while, she opened her eyes, smiling up at him as he came into focus.

"Morning, Pet." Spike returned her smile.

Buffy glanced towards the drawn curtains, taking in the brightness of the day. "Morning?" she queried.

"Well, not in the strictest sense," Spike agreed. "Feel up to meeting the gang?"

The reminder of the others brought back the news of the previous night, and Buffy's smile evaporated. She was the Slayer, and there was an apocalypse brewing. It had felt so good, waking up next to Spike again. It was only because she had missed it that she realised how important the little things like that were. After a shower, they dressed and went to join the others. 

They arrived just before Giles, each with some blood in a plastic cup. Buffy had giggled a bit when she spotted the bags of blood stored in the minibar fridge in the room, buried among the miniature bottles, but had been glad to see it. Her body might have been idle, but she was still ravenous after days of not feeding.

When Giles came in, he found the others trying to comfort Grianne on her failure to remove Emily's spirit from her body. Ignoring them, he walked to the statue. He examined it carefully, as if making certain of his thoughts before lifting the effigy off the table. To the surprise of the others present, he took a cover off one of the beds and put it on the floor, putting the statue down on top. He wrapped the statue in the cover, then he brought out a large rock he had picked up somewhere, and to the amazement of everyone present, proceeded to pulverise the statue. When he had finished, he picked up the cloth with its dusty contents, and carried it towards the door. By this time, he was being watched with open-mouthed horror. He simply smiled, told them he would explain, and left the room.

He returned about twenty minutes later minus both the piece of cloth and its contents. He looked at his companions, and started to explain.

"I found out what that thing was. You understand that the Hellmouth, which is responsible for Sunnydale's rather unique problems, is in fact a portal between worlds. It is like a doorway, and at the moment it is closed. The analogy is actually rather good. The door to this room is closed, but it is not impervious to some things. Some light gets in between the door and the frame. Sound travels through the wood. It is not airtight. The Hellmouth is very similar. It is closed, so the various beings in other worlds, some of them immensely powerful, cannot use it to enter this world. But, and this is the important part. They can use the doorway to influence things in this world. For the most part, that simply means there is an aura of evil emanating from the Hellmouth. That is what makes the area a magnet for the evil of this world."

He paused, removing his glasses to clean them before continuing. "Now, a very long time ago, probably long before the earth itself, there existed a hell dimension. Now that dimension was ruled by a very strange creature - a god - but strange even for such things. It is actually surprising to realise that most beings – demons and gods alike – tend to follow a recognisable male/female pattern. This hellgod was different. It was both male and female. It was reputed to have a body with both male and female genitalia, in an otherwise roughly human format. Now, for some reason, there were two awarenesses in the body of this hellgod. And one identified more with the male and the other with the female aspects of the personality. As a result of a conflict we can only imagine, the body was split. The male half was represented by the effigy I destroyed. The problem was… " Giles held up a hand to stave off the questions that were about to be fired in his direction.

"The problem was, that the effigy wasn't just a statue. No one is quite sure how it was done. The barriers between that dimension and this are extremely strong. Yet, somehow, several of these icons - some male as this one was, others showing the feminine awareness, have made their way into this world. There are references to the fact that they can act as a portal for the will of the hellgod. Through this, they can communicate and corrupt those of this world. Previous attempts have failed, but it's fair to say that Quentin was under the influence of this creature. Certainly, from Buffy's account, that much is apparent."

"So, at least we now know the point of the ritual. Its intention is to open the Hellmouth as a portal between this dimension and the reality of these 'twin' hellgods. And the one of them which brings about this … travesty, would reign supreme. It makes sense of the prophecy - I'd always wondered what the reference to 'right and left' meant. It's obvious now, that it's just a poor translation. The translation should have referred to Dexter and Sinistra. Now, we know Dexter was involved, what we don't know, is was Sinistra involved too?"

Buffy looked a little confused at this. Spotting her expression, Giles smiled, remembering the differences they always had when she couldn't understand what seemed to him to be the simplest references, while she delighted in throwing him with pop culture comments which left him floundering.

"Dexter and sinister come from the Latin for right- and left- hand. If you remember, Dexter had only the right hand part of his body, and Sinistra, would be the left half of a more or less female body."

Stephen had nodded during this explanation. "I think we've got to assume that Angelus is working with this Sinistra. If these two entities were part of the same being at some time in the past, we've got to assume that they're both involved. If one of them is trying to gain supremacy in this world, you can be sure the other is too."

Giles nodded his agreement. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of. Angelus alone is a formidable opponent. With the help of a hellgod, defeating him is going to be much more difficult."

Grianne spoke for the first time. "We have one advantage, though, don't we? We do know where the Hellmouth is. And we know when the ritual has to take place there, so we can get there first, and make sure it doesn't happen."

Giles looked at the witch. "Yes, I would have thought so. At least if Angelus was working independently, that would have been the case. If he has the power of a hellgod behind him - even the weakened power that can come through a statue such as Travers had - then it's possible that he could open up another fissure to the underlying fault. He could probably open the Hellmouth anywhere in a radius of several miles from the original."

The silence which greeted this information wasn't broken for some time. When someone spoke, it was Spike.

"So, how do we stop him?"

"Well," Stephen answered, "we're really back to stage one. He's got a Slayer - we've got to assume he's changed her - and he's at his heavily defended factory. There's a team on its way from England, and when they arrive, we should have a plan to attack."

Throughout his explanation, part of Giles' mind was studying Buffy. It seemed that with the exception of the few moments the previous night when he had held her, she had spent every other second touching Spike. There was nothing overtly sexual about it – something for which he was profoundly grateful – but everything about them spoke of intimacy. Even listening to him – and he couldn't fault Buffy in that – their eyes spent more time on one another than on him. He longed to get Buffy away from her Sire and hear first hand about her experience of the last five and a half years, but he thought he might need a crow bar to prise the couple apart first.

He had to admit, despite his misgivings, that their relationship seemed remarkably equal. There was no obvious sign of domination on either side – something totally at odds with the information gathered over centuries by the Council. He realised that he would have to wait to make up his mind about Spike. He still kept Buffy's favourite stake. It hadn't left his person since she had died, and all that time, he had promised he would use it on her killer. Except, he was no longer sure that was the right thing to do.

Emily was sleeping. She was peaceful, and David was thinking. He had no feelings for her, although she had proved very willing in bed, once he had persuaded her to relax. He knew it would take every ounce of control he could muster to keep up the façade of the kind and gentle lover he had decided to use. He wondered how much of his Sire he would see while this continued. He didn't think for a moment that Angleus would involve himself in something so opposed to his own personality. 

Angelus had gone out. David knew, or at least suspected, that he was going to another audience with Sinistra. He suspected that the necessity of him staying close to Emily was merely a convenient excuse. It would have been interesting to see Sinistra when she was pleased with Angelus.

Angelus returned from his visit to Sinistra in a state of high excitement. He had been rewarded for obtaining another Slayer, and at the same time got the news that Buffy was no longer being held by Travers. Angelus couldn't help but wonder what had happened, but Sinistra's understanding of the world was limited. She knew only what was important to her. The Slayer was important, as was her link to her brother. Other creatures - human and demon alike - were not.

Although he didn't feel particularly threatened by the Council team he knew was in Sunnydale, he was too close to his goal to take the chance of being thwarted. It was time to take precautions. The whereabouts of the factory was well known - not only to the local demon population, but also to Spike and the Watcher. There was too much chance that they would decide to try to storm his lair in an attempt to stop the ritual. Even though he was confident that he could stave off such an attack, it would only take one mistake, and Emily or David could be lost, and without them, well, the result wasn't one he wished to consider. The memory of the pain of Sinistra's punishment caused him to shiver involuntarily. Sometimes pain had positive aspects, but **that** pain - no. He never wanted to experience that again. 

He decided that a move was in order. The lair he decided to use was deep underground. It had the added advantage of being an ideal place to perform the ritual anyway. It was entered via the tunnel system, and could only be reached by running the gauntlet of a particularly nasty monster. It was huge and apparently reptile in nature. It ate anything that moved, and it was incredibly fast. It also owed Angelus a debt of gratitude for supplying it with food when it had been badly injured in a mating duel with another of its kind. It had been victorious, but the combination of the duel and the mating itself had left it weakened, and when Angelus came upon it, it was almost dead of starvation, its mate gone to her spawning grounds. At that time, Angelus was in the process of wiping out another group of vampires who had the audacity to move into his town. It was a simple matter to deliver these vampires to the monster on a regular basis until it recovered. Their agreement was simple; it would allow only Angelus and those with him to pass.

The other advantage of being underground was temperature. He knew that once he went into this new lair, he would not be able to leave until the ritual was complete. He would therefore have to bring sufficient food with him. The lower temperature meant that even after he had killed those he brought with him, the blood would stay fairly fresh for long enough.

He knew that Emily and David would have to accompany him. Unwilling to live for even a few days without some minions to do his will, he thought of two who would fit the bill. They were ex-military types who obeyed orders without question. He had always assumed it was a result of their military training - that and the fact that they weren't really too bright.

Much later, Angelus found David and Emily sleeping. She was deeply asleep, but David was stirring as the sunset called to him. Glad that fledglings need so much rest, Angelus muttered, "Get dressed," to David. "We're going hunting."

David's answering grin lit up his face. After spending so much time keeping his demon in check, a bit of violence would go down well. And if the violence spilled over after they got back to the factory, so much the better.

Without a Slayer in Sunnydale, Buffy offered to take over patrols. Of course, Spike wasn't about to let her out of his sight, so he went too. Giles had enjoyed watching Buffy. She seemed so much the young woman he had loved, that he almost forgot what she now was, despite the constant reminder that was Spike hovering at her side. She had insisted on going out between sunset and the shops closing to get some new clothes. The fact that she had chosen primarily leather and black did nothing to make her seem less alive. 

Despite the sadness the last few days had brought, she was obviously happy. The fact that her happiness seemed to centre on the vampire who had killed her was hard to understand, but the pleasure they both had in the other's company was there for anyone to see. On rare occasions when they weren't touching, they were watching each other. Giles knew it could be partly because of their recent separation, but suspected it was a constant feature of their relationship - even after five years. He thought about his relationship with Jenny. He loved her very much, but they both had lives outside of their relationship. She had been comfortable with the idea of him coming back to Sunnydale, even though an absence of several weeks was likely to result. They missed each other, of course, but…. With Buffy it seemed Spike was her life. And if Giles wasn't mistaken, Buffy was Spike's life. It was becoming almost impossible to separate them in his own mind, as they almost became a single entity.

The two vampires headed out for patrol, with a great deal of good-natured teasing about which of them would bag the most vampires. Even though he had never done it before, Spike seemed to have no problem with dusting others of his own kind. He had never been the Slayer, yet he allied himself with Buffy in every respect.

When they returned a couple of hours later, they were dusty, but still laughing together. There was some sort of an argument going on about which of them was to take credit for a vampire both had staked - one from in front, the other from behind. They both seemed like unruly children as they argued, except there was no obvious sign that it would get out of hand. Giles remembered when Buffy was with Riley. He had loved her very much, but hadn't been able to get over the fact that she was stronger than he was. He wanted to protect her, and she had ended up saving his life on a number of occasions. In the end, it was his insistence that he should keep her safe - if need be by their moving away from the Hellmouth - that had been the end of their relationship. That was one of the last nails in Buffy's coffin. Giles could see that now in a way he didn't spot it at the time. Buffy had thought Riley was her chance at something approaching a normal life, but when it came to it, she realised that normal and Buffy didn't really mix too well. Unwilling to invite pain again, Buffy had become more and more independent, avoiding even friendships at college.

Hearing a lull in the ongoing argument, Giles moved closer to the couple. "Buffy," he asked gently. "Do you think, maybe in the morning, we could have a quiet chat? Just you and me?" As he said the last bit, he glared at Spike, expecting an argument. He didn't get one, as Spike just pursed his lips as if slightly disappointed. 

Buffy didn't seem to notice the exchange, but nodded. "Sure, Giles, if you want." But as she spoke, her hand found Spike's and gave it a squeeze, almost apologising in that action for the fact that he had been excluded. A short while later, the two vampires left the room, heading for their own. They still had a lot of catching up to do, and if Buffy had to be up and talking to Giles next morning, then they knew they'd better get an early start.


	17. Chapter 17 Catching up on the Past

Chapter 17 - Catching up on the Past

Buffy knocked on Giles' door gently, waiting for an invitation to enter. When she did, Giles' heart leapt, she looked so achingly familiar. There was no Spike at her side to remind him of what she now was. It was as if no time had passed since she had been part of his life. Of course, she had not aged. She still looked as she did at 21 - and even then, she had still looked to be in her teens. She came in slightly shyly, as if she was unsure of her welcome, so Giles stood and held out his arms. She ran towards him and was soon enfolded in a fatherly hug. She enjoyed the sensation of safety it gave her, surprised after all this time, how warm a human could be. It was so different from when Spike held her. He felt neither hot nor cold, but his touch was perfection in every way.

Breaking away, she stepped back to look at the man who had been her Watcher. She noticed he had aged since she last saw him. Although it had been five years, she knew instinctively that time alone wasn't responsible for the changes. He seemed unable to speak, so she had pity on him.

"So, how are Jenny and Lizzie?"

Giles nodded, grinning rather stupidly as he tried to ensure tears didn't form in his eyes.

"They .. they're fine. I rang them when I got up, it's a good time. I try to catch them before Lizzie goes to bed. She has to keep regular hours now, you know, because of school."

It was Buffy's turn to nod rather stupidly at that. She knew it had been a while, but to her Lizzie would forever be a tot just learning to walk. "Going to school, wow," was all she could manage.

"Yes, she's just started her second year, although with a strange illogicality, it's called Year 1. The first year's called Reception. Never did understand that."

Before they could get past the small talk, he continued, "Would you like to see a photo?"

Buffy nodded, holding out a hand to take Giles' wallet as he offered it to her. The photograph was of a dark-haired, brown eyed child - colouring so like her mother, but the serious expression was undoubtedly Giles'. She was dressed in a red school sweatshirt with the collar of a white polo shirt showing underneath. "That's her in uniform," he explained, unnecessarily.

Buffy stifled a giggle. "I think I could have worked that out."

"Of course you could, how stupid of me," Giles muttered as he pulled off his glasses to clean them.

As he performed this single act which so clearly took her back to before her death, Buffy felt tears pricking in her eyes again. When Giles' glasses had made their way back to his face, he looked at her carefully, as if trying to find the answers to his unasked questions on her face.

"You want to know if I'm happy," Buffy stated.

Unable to form a word, Giles just nodded.

"I am." Buffy's words left no room for misunderstanding. "I mean, I missed you, and Willow and Xander, but I already only saw Will and Xander occasionally. I guess I missed you most. But he's made me so happy. The past few years, well, I've been able to just live for me, well" she thought again, "no, live for us. Spike and me. I could never do that, not from when I became the Slayer. There was always something that needed slaying. I could never just be 'Buffy Summers'. I sort of went back to growing up, I think. But it's been good. Well, better than that. I tried to tell you when I wrote. I can't explain it, but from the moment I met Spike that night, I wasn't afraid. Not even when I knew he was going to kill me. I've heard about the theory of the soul - that we share my soul. I don't know if that accounts for how he feels about me, but, I love him. It's real. I know it is. He's everything to me."

Giles just nodded again. He swallowed, trying to shift the lump which seemed to have formed in his throat.

"I told him I'd stake him when you were safe," he started. Before he could go further, Buffy had stood up, making sure she was between Giles and the door.

"I also told him I'd talk to you first," he reassured her. "He told me he wouldn't fight if I still wanted to afterwards. Surprised me. It was the last thing I expected."

Buffy wasn't mollified. "If you try to hurt him, you have to go through me. And if you succeed, if you stake him, you'd better stake me straight after, because if you don't, I will."

"I know that now. Then, well, the idea of you being happy as a .. a vampire just didn't seem likely. I thought he was forcing you to tell me you were happy. Even when I met him, I still thought,…."

Buffy sat down again, although she kept her attention firmly on him. "He's never forced me to do anything. Never."

Giles nodded his understanding, and both knew that the subject of Giles staking Spike wouldn't come up again.

"So, when this is over, can I come and see them?"

Giles looked momentarily confused, but followed Buffy's eyes to the wallet which lay on his lap.

"Oh, Jenny and Lizzie? They'd love to see you. I'm not sure Lizzie remembers much, but she's heard us talking about you."

"So, you're all living in London?"

"Well, just outside. We moved when I was replaced as Watcher. You know I resigned from the Council after …"

"I think I heard someone mention it. Why?"

Giles paused. She obviously didn't understand what a huge question that was. "Because, there didn't seem much point in the Council any more. Because I couldn't keep you safe. Because they couldn't understand why I wouldn't stay and train another Slayer. They actually asked me to train your successor. That was a precedent. They'd never asked a Watcher to take a second Slayer before. But I couldn't. She wasn't you, and I'd failed you anyway, and…"

Buffy got up from the stool she'd been perching on and put her arms around him. He wasn't actually sobbing, but he kept shaking his head, and his face was hidden in his hands.

She crouched in front of him, forcing him to look at her by taking his hands in her own. "It wasn't your fault. I fought better than ever before on that night. There was no other vampire or demon who could have killed me. It's just, somehow, I'm meant to be with Spike. I've always known there was more to it than the obvious. Someone or something interfered with the normal course of things that night, and try as I might, I can't regret it. And I have tried. You know me, I've never liked the idea that someone else was forcing me to do something. I knew what happened that night wasn't my choice, but I can't regret a moment of it."

She paused, noticing that Giles seemed embarrassed by the contact, and returned to her stool. Giles seemed to have recovered, and continued to meet her gaze.

"I'm not sure what Spike thinks about it. He wouldn't like the idea of being manipulated any more than I do, but it's one thing we've never discussed. It's sort of skirting around the question of whether we'd love each other if whatever hadn't taken a hand in it - in us. And I don't want to think about that possibility. What we have feels completely real and genuine, and I know, that if it turned out to be a necessity, something we've been forced into, if I ever lost his love, or realised I didn't love him, it would leave such a hole in me, I don't think I could carry on. So, we haven't talked about it."

Giles knew she was thinking about the prophecy. There were definite signs in the prophecy that something had taken a hand. And the business about the soul being re-unified could somehow end their bond, if it was the soul that linked them in the first place. He wondered if Spike had considered the possibility.

There was silence for a few moments, then Buffy remembered the others. "So, how are Willow and Xander? Do they keep in touch?"

Giles smiled warmly for a moment, then his smile faded as he thought about what he'd tell her. "Willow, she keeps in touch. Mainly letters - you know. She's teaching these days - doing well by all accounts. She's in Minnesota. She says she doesn't miss the California weather, and she loves the snow. And let's face it, she'd have to in Minnesota. I'm sure she'd love to meet you again."

"So, is she married? With someone?"

"There is someone, I think. I've never met him, but I think she's living with him. Name of Steve." He paused, remembering the difficult time just after Buffy's death. "I think she believed you were happy. She tried to persuade me, and Xander, but it was … hard. I was never sure whether she really believed it or whether she said she did to help us."

"So, how about Xander? How's he doing?"

Giles sighed. "Well, I haven't heard from him for a while. He took your death … hard. He started drinking. His marriage broke up about eighteen months later. I still hear from Anya. She's still in California - she moved to San Francisco after the break-up."

"Do you know how he is? Xander, I mean."

"I've heard some things. Mainly from Anya, of course. His business failed after she left. By the sound of it, she kept it going after you died, and then it just got to be too much. She married again - a year ago."

There were tears in Buffy's eyes as she thought about her friend. She had always known that Xander loved her. She tried for a long time to ignore it, but she'd known that he wanted more than friendship. Yet he had seemed happy with Anya. 

As they both sat silently, lost in their own thoughts, the telephone rang. It was Spike. When Giles handed the phone to Buffy, he was asking, "Well, have you had long enough? I've been good, I stayed away, but if I have to spend another minute pacing up and down this room, I'm going to go crazy. So, is he going to stake me? I told him I wouldn't fight, but I'm not sure I can keep my word on that. I'm not leaving you, not unless you want it."

Buffy smiled to herself, as she told him she wouldn't be long. He was so self-sufficient in so many ways. He was strong, he could take care of himself, but when it came to her, he had so many insecurities. It had taken some time to persuade him that she really was happy, but his doubts had always been there. She reassured him as well as she could, and promised to be back soon.

Giles had heard enough of the conversation to understand the gist of it. He realised he still had a lot to learn about Spike, but he also knew he was willing to take the time to do it, if they allowed him back into her life. 

Angelus decided to make the move to his new lair during daylight. He was able to get there through the tunnels from the factory easily enough, so daylight wasn't a problem that way. And he hoped it would make discovery by the Council team less likely. He took Emily and David first. They were the key to everything, and he wanted them safe before he started to bring in the rest of what he would need. 

David held Emily close to him during the walk through the tunnels. He could sense she was torn. She was still infatuated with him. that feeling was still foremost in her mind, but he could sense other thoughts. It was as if her Slayer soul was trying to assert itself. He had taken to allowing her to feed from him regularly, understanding the power of Sire's blood when it came to the bond. The link between them was strengthened with every drop of blood they shared. The disadvantage was that it went two ways. The more often she drank from him, the more he felt responsible for her, and he wasn't sure he wanted that. 

David hadn't shared his concerns with Angelus. He was too close to his goal to brook failure now. 

When they were alone, David checked out the lair. There was a bedroom of sorts - not up to the standards of the factory, of course, but more than adequate for a few days. He beckoned Emily towards it, surprised when she didn't run into his arms. She approached him slowly, keeping out of his reach. 

"What's the matter?" he asked, still holding out his arms to her. She hadn't refused his advances before. At first, she had been too scared and confused by her new existence, and more recently, she had been a more than willing partner.

Emily shrugged. She was feeling uncomfortable about what was going on. She knew it was important, and she knew about the prophecy. Immediately after she was changed, she found some memories were hazy, but with time, they were returning, and with them, came the realisation that she was to be used as a substitute for Buffy. Since that realisation, she had become more and more confused.

"I know why Angelus wants me." She looked straight at David as she said the words. "He wants to use my blood to open the Hellmouth."

David was surprised. They had decided not to give her any information until the last moment. He tried to bluster. "You don't know what you're talking about. Angelus has to do something, and he wants his family with him. You're here because you're important to me."

Emily shook her head. "David, I know. I … I don't want to do it. It'll change the world. People will die."

David put all of his will into the bond and pulled her to him. She approached, unwillingly at first, then more eagerly as he started to undress. "Feed, childe," he told her. 

Emily couldn't resist, and was soon lost in the taste of her Sire's blood as he undressed her.

Later, Emily slept. They had made love until she was exhausted, and in truth, David was similarly tired. He had a problem - and it was serious. He could still force Emily to do his will, but her soul was pulling her away. He thought about what he could do. He had to find a way to strengthen her demon. Feeding from him would help. Then it came to him. The other thing that would help was hunger. She couldn't survive for long on what he could spare. If her demon was hungry, it would take over. The demon was what was controlled by the bond. At last, David felt relaxed enough to sleep.

Angelus left them with every intention of returning quickly. He really didn't like the idea of being out of circulation for three days. Given the situation, he couldn't even take out his frustration on David. Until the ritual, he would have to seem as human as Emily expected David to be.

As night fell, Spike and Buffy went to patrol again. They had really enjoyed the previous night. Without even realising it, they had both missed the thrill of the hunt. It was in their blood - both as vampires and as the Slayer. Of course, they had sparred with one another during their time together. It was a mainstay of their relationship, made even better by the fact that they were evenly matched. Having a common enemy to fight was so much better than fighting one another. There was no real risk in sparring, and although they didn't meet anything that seriously challenged them, each time it was a fight to the death.

Buffy particularly enjoyed it as a time to clear her mind of all that was worrying her. Her talk with Giles had been good, and it had cleared the air between them, but she had voiced something that she had previously kept locked in her mind. It had been there all the time she had been with Spike, but it had really come to the fore when she heard the prophecy. It was obvious that to defeat the current evil, her soul needed to be re-unified. If that changed Spike - if he became a vampire who could kill - if he no longer cared for her - the prospect terrified her. She felt sure of her own feelings. She knew she loved the man he had become with her soul. She just wasn't sure how she would feel about him if he changed. 

Then again, she was feeling guilty about Xander. She had believed him happy before she died, but to hear what had happened with him saddened her.

Spike knew something was worrying her, but he also knew she wasn't ready to talk about it. 

They had patrolled generally for a while, and found a motley selection of vampires, but nothing that challenged them significantly. Spike had an idea, and pulled Buffy's arm, saying, "What do you say we go and take a look at the factory? If we're going to storm the place, it's worth a look. We might even get lucky and take out some of the troops if they're off to feed."

Buffy grinned her agreement. She had a lot of scores to settle with Angelus, and she really wanted to hurt him. The prospect of taking him on excited her, and she knew she might even let Spike help if they were lucky enough to meet him.

Spike knew the area well enough to give them a good hiding place from which they could watch the traffic in and out of the lair. 

They watched for a while. The approach to the factory was quite open. Spike told Buffy that there would be someone watching from inside the factory, making sure no one approached without warning. That meant that they couldn't challenge returning vampires outside the factory, as they could easily have reinforcements from within. They spent their time simply trying to estimate the numbers of vampires coming and going. It was soon obvious that there were more at the factory than Spike had noticed earlier. Angelus had fortified the factory significantly. 

Spike explained his concern to Buffy. "There are more than we'll see. Angelus doesn't allow all his minions out to feed. He always keeps a few humans available. They don't last long, but while they do, you can get a lot out of them. Thing is, after a while, the fear sours the blood, so it's not popular. But then, he's never been one for trying to win popularity contests." It was obvious that attacking the factory was going to be difficult, and that anything they could do to improve the odds would be welcome.

Spike gave some thought to that. He led Buffy away from the factory, reaching an alley where there was ample cover. They kept out of sight while Spike reminded her that this was on the quickest route from the Bronze to the factory. He couldn't see any reason why the Bronze wasn't still operating as a magnet for the younger population of Sunnydale, and, particularly after a few drinks, they had always been fairly easy prey.

"Then, why don't we go to the Bronze?" Buffy remonstrated. "If we go to the source, maybe we can keep a few alive."

"Too late for tonight," he replied. "They'll be closing soon. We could go there tomorrow?"

Buffy smiled at his expression. He almost seemed shy as he uttered those last few words, as if he was asking her for a date. "Yes, let's do that," she replied, leaning forward to kiss him.

They both sensed it together. There was something coming, and they both trained their senses towards the signal. They saw them. Spike knew he recognised them both vaguely. They had been with Angelus during his time. He knew they were both big and fairly experienced, but didn't think they'd be any real match for him and Buffy. Leaving Buffy where she was, he ran through the shadows, keeping ahead of their progress. He smiled to himself. They hadn't sensed anything, but then, they never had been too bright.

When they got past the point where Buffy was concealed, he stepped out in front of them. On cue, Buffy slipped unnoticed behind them, waiting for her signal.

"Well, long time, no see," Spike drawled at the pair. They immediately looked like children on Christmas morning, as they planned how Angelus would reward them for capturing his wayward grandchilde. They both changed to demon face and lunged. The first was deflected easily, and while the second launched an attack at Spike, Buffy made her presence known. She kicked the other, sending him sprawling across the alley. When he landed, he seemed dazed, but managed to get to his feet before she reached him. It was soon obvious that all he could do was defend himself. She came close to incapacitating him with every blow, and it was only his defence which meant he was still in one piece. He saw the stake in her hand, and was immediately surprised. That other vampires would attack was not surprising. That they would use stakes was unheard of. It just wasn't done. Even Angelus didn't use one on minions who displeased him, preferring to see them burn in sunlight.

The shock was his undoing because he hesitated. His face still mirrored his surprise as he turned to dust. Buffy span around, looking for Spike. She saw him straddling the other vampire on the ground, reaching into his pocket for a stake, and a moment later, he pushed it into his heart. 

Buffy and Spike went back to their place of concealment and waited a while longer. They saw nothing else, and eventually decided to give up and go back to the hotel.


	18. Chapter 18 Doing Things in the Wrong Or...

Chapter 18 - Doing Things in the Wrong Order

Spike and Buffy woke late the next morning to the news that the Council team was due to arrive later that day. They would use the safe house where Dru had been held as a base, and the others were expected to join them. They could all see distinct disadvantages, particularly along the lines of having a Council hit team and two vampires in the same building. There were also advantages, as it would simplify the pooling of information and planning. Added to that, there was the security aspect. That building was effectively shielded, and so they were hidden from Angelus.

The move was straightforward, and, as they arrived before the Council of Watchers hit team, they had first choice of accommodation. There were a number of bedrooms on the upper floor, but they were all small and open to the sun. Even with curtains, it was unlikely they would be safe for the two vampires. They scouted further, and found a room in the basement. It wasn't much to look at. It was dark, and only housed a desk and a couple of chairs. It was close to the cell where Dru had been held. Spike's expression was bleak as they went downstairs. Being so close to the place where Dru's ashes had littered the floor brought back the memory clearly. Buffy tried to find an alternative, because she could sense what it was doing to Spike to be back there, but he eventually persuaded her there was no choice. They hauled a mattress from one of the bedrooms, and put the desk into a cell. There was barely room to walk around their makeshift bed, but it would do.

When they went upstairs, the others were settled. Spike noticed Buffy having a number of whispered conversations with Grianne and Alasdair. She just smiled mysteriously when he asked what was going on. Alasdair and Grianne headed out, claiming they had some business to attend to, and the others all seemed busy. Buffy seemed preoccupied, and Spike was feeling at a loose end. As the afternoon wore on, Buffy headed off to have a bath. Spike waited for her in their room, but she seemed to be taking longer than usual, and Spike was starting to be concerned. When she eventually emerged, she was wearing a wrap and her hair was bound in a towel. The scent of her filled his senses. He had been lying on their mattress, trying to curb his impatience, when she came in. He immediately thought of several possibilities which would pass the time until they had to patrol, but Buffy kicked him out of the room. He stood on the other side of the door completely bemused. He had no idea why she was acting like that. She didn't even seem angry with him. He went upstairs muttering under his breath about how he would never understand women.

A little while later, Alasdair and Grianne came back from town carrying several bags. Spike hadn't paid too much attention when they had pleaded business in town, but he hadn't thought that meant they were going shopping. Still, he reasoned, it was none of his business. He was completely amazed, however, when Grianne took some of her purchases to the basement. He followed, and heard Buffy asking her to leave the bags outside the door. As soon as she knew Grianne was gone, Spike saw Buffy's arm snake out of the door and retrieve them. Now he was really confused. He returned to the main room, and realised there was one bag still there. Alasdair picked it up and took it upstairs without commenting. Spike was starting to feel that everyone but he knew what was going on, and for once his fear was justified.

It was early evening. Buffy still hadn't emerged from their room, despite his knocking several times. The answer was always the same. "Go away, I'll be finished soon." There was no indication as to what she would be finished with. 

It was dark outside, and Spike was ready to patrol. He climbed the stairs after his most recent attempt to see her, and Alasdair took him by the arm.

"Come with me," he said, leading him up to the top floor. Spike no longer knew what to think, so he followed. Alasdair took him to the room he had commandeered and pointed to the bag which lay on the bed.

"I understand you're taking Buffy out this evening," he started. Spike looked up in shock. He struggled to think where that idea had come from. Slowly it came back to him. They had sort of decided to go to the Bronze tonight. It had occurred to him that it would be good to be out with her like that, even if there was an ulterior motive, but he hadn't thought in terms of 'taking Buffy out for the evening'.

Seeing Spike's dawning comprehension, Alasdair continued. "Buffy though you'd like something different to wear. It's in the bag. She assures me it's the right size, so I suggest you try it on."

Spike froze. Clothes? Buffy had bought him clothes? He had to assume she'd taken money from his wallet, not that he minded, of course, but she **never** bought him clothes. He bought what he needed mail order. It was always black, so it was easy.

When he recovered, Alasdair had gone. Spike approached the bag as if he expected it to bite. Tipping the contents onto the bed, he was surprised. There were trousers - dark navy - and he had to assume in the current fashion. He always wore jeans, so he didn't pay too much attention. The shirt was brighter. It was a dark cornflower blue and apparently made of silk. He'd never worn anything like it, and wasn't too keen on starting now. He went to the bathroom and showered before returning to the room. The clothes lay where he had left them, and he considered ignoring them and dressing in clean clothes he had brought with him. Still, he decided, he might as well try them on. That way he could at least tell her why it didn't work.

He slipped into the clothes, which fitted perfectly. He wished he could see his reflection in a mirror, but as he couldn't, he opened the door, sensing someone was outside. To his surprise, Giles grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him downstairs again. Spike started to complain, saying, "Wait a minute, I only opened the door so you could see how bloody stupid I look. I'm going back to change."

Giles looked back at him with a look of determination. "Buffy said you'd say that, that's why I'm under orders to bring you straight downstairs."

Spike could have pulled away from Giles, but he had a feeling that he had better go along with Buffy on this one. Whatever she had in mind, she had gone to a lot of effort.

He entered the main room, Giles' hand still on his arm, to find Alasdair, Grianne and Stephen waiting. They grinned at his discomfiture, but he thought he saw an admiring glance from Grianne. Trying to retain as much of his dignity as he could, he stood waiting for the next step. When it came, his mouth fell open in shock. Buffy was at the door, but she had never looked like that. She was always beautiful, but living where they did, there was no reason for dressing up. Even if there had been somewhere to go, they had always been content with their own company. 

He couldn't take his eyes off her, and he sensed that the other men in the room were looking appreciatively too. The dress was a deep turquoise blue. It showed every nuance of her shape without being in any way tasteless. He might have stood there all night, just drinking in the sight of her but Stephen pushed something into his hand. Dragging his eyes away to see what it was, he saw a car key. 

"You can borrow the car. Your change of clothes is in the boot."

He was still desperately trying to process this information, when Buffy took his arm, leading him dazedly outside. He could hear laughter behind him as he closed the door and walked with Buffy to the car. As he opened the passenger door for her, she put her arms around his waist. "I've never known you so lost for words," she whispered.

"I feel like I've never see you before. You're beautiful, Love," he managed.

"You mean, there was something wrong before?" she asked, seeming to bristle.

"No," he answered quickly. "You've always been beautiful. The most beautiful. It's just that, you're more than beautiful tonight. I'm just wondering how I'm going to keep you to myself. Every man who sees you is going to want you."

She smiled at him. "Then it's just as well you decided to dress up yourself, then. Otherwise I might have been tempted." Her grin showed him that she was teasing, so he leaned forward and kissed her. It took an effort of will not to simply carry her back inside and down to their room, but after a moment, he broke away, allowing her to get into the car.

They drove in silence at first. Spike was just trying to understand what was happening to him. He had been thoroughly ambushed.

"So, what's going on?" he started, trying to make sure there weren't any more surprises.

"We're going on a date," she replied, as if it was obvious.

"A date? We're a bit past that stage, aren't we? I mean, we've been sharing a bed for five years."

"How can we be past that stage, when we've never dated? You've never taken me on a date. I thought it was time to put that right."

"Oh," he paused to let this sink in. "I think this comes under the heading of 'doing things in the wrong order'. And what happens when we get back later? Do I get to kiss you on the doorstep while Giles' does the paternal scowl?"

"Well," she smiled at the mental picture. "That depends on you."

He nodded, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the road rather than on her.

There was silence for a bit longer. It was broken by Spike. "What did Stephen mean by 'spare clothes in the boot'"

"Just what he said. Our Slaying clothes are in the trunk. If you think I'm going slaying in this dress …" 

He tried to imagine her slaying in that dress, but gave up. Imagining her doing anything in that dress ensured he couldn't concentrate on driving, so he banished any such thought and steeled himself to concentrate on getting them both into Sunnydale in one piece.

Spike parked the car, and they walked the short distance to the Bronze. He put his arm possessively around her as they walked, realising rather belatedly that his joke of earlier really had some substance. He was actually a bit worried about taking her into a public place looking like she did tonight. 

He had been giving some thought lately to the possibility that her feelings for him were a result of some intervention from above. Add to that the fact that they had spent their time together so isolated that she had never had the chance to consider other possibilities, and he was starting to feel very insecure. He loved her so much, and he didn't think he could cope with other men looking at her the way he knew they would. Hell, the way he would if he saw her for the first time tonight. Or even the way he looked at her the night he killed her - the first time he saw her as something other than the Slayer.

Buffy must have noticed the tension in his body, because she looked up at this face, silently questioning what was wrong. She squeezed his arm reassuringly. 

The Bronze was as he remembered it from his previous sojourn in Sunnydale. He suspected it hadn't even seen a lick of paint. Buffy's appearance had the effect he had feared. There was a group of men playing pool close to the entrance, and to a man, they stood and gawked at her. Tightening his grip around her, he glared at them, doing his best to frighten them off without changing his face. He hustled her to a table in a corner, then ordered some drinks from a passing waitress. He would normally have gone to the bar himself, but the prospect of leaving her alone seemed completely inappropriate. 

Sipping her drink, Buffy knew there was something wrong, but the music was too loud for a serious discussion, and anyway, that wasn't the reason for coming here. She wanted to dance, and had hoped he would take the hint, but she had waited long enough. She stood and pulled him to his feet. As she did, the music changed, becoming slower. They left their table, and he pulled her close. There could have been no doubt to anyone in the room that she belonged to him. It was the way he held her, coupled with the way he looked around him, that gave her the clue to how he was feeling. Her Spike was feeling insecure about her love. She almost felt the urge to chuckle, his insecurity so mirrored her own earlier.

Remembering her own feelings, she leaned closer to his ear and whispered, "I love you, Spike."

Spike was embarrassed that she so obviously understood what was wrong. He realised that he knew it didn't matter how many men looked at her tonight, there was only one of them who was going to hold her the way he was doing. There was only one she would leave with tonight. There was only one who would share her bed, and he was the luckiest bloke alive.

After that, things improved. Spike never had been into dancing unless it involved holding his partner and ideally rubbing all the most interesting parts of their bodies together. Buffy loved dancing to almost anything. When the music was slow, she was happy to be close to him. Other music made her gyrate in ways that made him want her even more, and he did his best to ignore the attention she brought on herself.

At last, Buffy checked the time, and whispered, "I think we should go after this. We can check out what's happening outside, and get in a patrol before we head back."

He nodded, pulling her close again. The music didn't really warrant it, but if it was the last dance they were having tonight, he was going to make the most of it.

When the music ended, they headed back to their table and he retrieved the bag containing Buffy's spare clothes. She headed off to the Ladies room to change, and he hovered close enough to see her as soon as she emerged, but far enough away that he didn't look too conspicuous.

When she came out, she was dressed in her leather trousers and a pale blue tank top. Putting his arm around her again, they headed for the door, paying particular attention to those leaving ahead of them.

Outside, they spotted several couples trying to find inconspicuous places. Allowing their senses of smell full rein, both tried to recognise the unmistakable scent of blood. When they found it, they approached, finding two couples. Silently apportioning one couple each, they attacked. Buffy tapped the man on the shoulder. He turned a demon face to her, blood still running from his mouth. "Get your own," he growled, before trying to return to his meal. Buffy was too fast, and punched him full on the face before he could turn away. Howling, he dropped the terrified girl who was fortunately able to get up and run. 

It didn't take too much longer before she had staked him, and she turned to watch Spike. He had rescued a six foot man who thought he was getting lucky with a petite brunette. Spike dispatched her quickly, and the two vampires continued their walk towards the shadows.

An hour later, they had dispatched another half dozen vampires, and the Bronze was fast emptying. Deciding they had achieved what they could there, they did a quick sweep of the local cemeteries before heading back to the car. The cemeteries had been quiet, almost as if Angelus had decided to keep a low profile - not making any minions. As they drove, Buffy thought back to the evening in the Bronze. She had really enjoyed herself. She had seen the looks of envy from other women there, and knew she was the luckiest woman there. She watched Spike as he drove, seeing his eyes flicker towards her when he thought she wasn't looking.

There was no sound of life when they got back, although the pile of bags in the main room suggested that the Council team had arrived. Buffy and Spike crept downstairs, glad the room they had chosen was so far from the others. Not only did that mean they shouldn't have any interruptions, it also meant they didn't have to worry about noise, and Buffy thought there would probably be a lot of noise tonight.


	19. Chapter 19 Assault on the Factory

Chapter 19 - Assault on the Factory

Although it had been late when they got back, and even later when they had eventually fallen asleep, the noise filtering into their basement room woke Buffy and Spike early. Reluctantly they realised they might be needed upstairs and so they got up. They dressed quickly, and both made a beeline for the kitchen where they had left some blood in the fridge.

Walking through the house, they were met with suspicious looks from a number of strangers, and while they weren't overtly threatened, it was obvious they weren't trusted. Spike sighed inwardly. It had taken some time before Stephen, Giles and Grianne trusted him - even John showed signs of trust before he was killed. He realised he had his arm protectively around Buffy again, and knew she was also unhappy at the atmosphere. 

Fortunately, Giles was in the kitchen, sipping tea, and the two vampires joined him, noticing that they were left strictly alone.

"Good morning," he greeted them. "We didn't think we'd see you so soon." Giles looked slightly embarrassed. "So, how was last night - in a Slaying sense, of course?"

Buffy told him what had happened, giving the total slay count. Spike added, "Of course, we don't know how many were Angelus'. He won't tolerate another family in Sunnydale, but he's never been much for exterminating the loners and small groups. If they're no threat to him, he just ignores them."

Giles nodded, assimilating the information. "I managed to get some more research material. Luckily, there's a computer here - complete with Internet connection. I never really got the hang of it, but Stephen and Grianne helped. I got Jenny to send over copies of a number of documents I had at home. It includes a particularly difficult piece of translation I've been working on. I didn't think it had anything to do with what's going on, but I've started to reconsider. It's in a very obscure language - somewhat based on Latin, but it's a strange Latin. There's a smattering of all sorts in it, and I think it might be important, if I could only understand. The printer's been busy all night, and I'm going to get back to work in a few minutes. Oh, and yes, there's a strategy meeting at noon. The plan is we hit the factory at dawn."

The two vampires listened to Giles, not really taking in anything until he got to the last sentence. As they finished their blood, Spike checked the time.

"Time for a shower, then, Love," he said, as the two left.

At noon, they had all assembled in the main room. Extra chairs had been brought in from the rest of the house. Spike had made a point of getting Buffy and himself into their seats early because of the psychological advantage he knew that would give. And he took a perverse pleasure in watching the wary glances he got from the others as they entered. They had obviously been warned to keep away from the vampires, and they were doing just that. When everyone was seated, Buffy and Spike were flanked by Giles, Alasdair, Grianne and Stephen. The new team were sitting opposite.

Stephen was the first to speak. "I know it's not easy for you," he addressed the other side of the table. "But, I've got to ask you all to leave your personal feelings outside. Whatever your history, whoever you know who was killed by a vampire, remember, we have all lost someone that way - it's an occupational hazard. Right now, we've got to work together. Buffy was the Slayer. She has, as far as we can determine, all the instincts of the Slayer still intact. She is also a vampire. That gives her some other instincts."

He paused to let this sink in. "Spike is a vampire who has been around a long time. We know he is able in a fight. He has overcome three Slayers - something no other of his kind has achieved. Neither of them has fed from a living human in over five years. In addition, we believe they are needed. We still don't know the details, but they are necessary to the final defeat of the evil which we believe may rise in Sunnydale."

He paused, again, catching the eye of each of the newly arrived hit team. There was no room for mistakes, and he had to hope that they were all professional enough to overlook personal animosity. Buffy took in the uncomfortable shuffling that went on opposite. 

"So, let's do some introductions. You met the rest of us last night, and I'm sure you've already worked out who the other two are, but for the sake of manners, let me introduce William the Bloody also known as Spike, and Buffy Summers, lately Slayer." He turned to the other side of the table. "Now, the team sent by the Council, is headed by Bill Small." He pointed out a small, wiry man in his thirties. Despite his size, he looked formidable - his expression and body almost inhumanly hard. Small's response was a curt nod. "Continuing round the table we have Mike Smith, Dave Wilson, Brian Walker, Gerry Mullaney, Scott Barber, Des Lincoln, and Stuart McLean." There was a short pause before he continued. "Bill, why don't you tell us what you've brought with you and give us your initial thoughts."

Bill stood up, and Spike knew he was the type who always commanded attention wherever he was. There was a power and ruthlessness about the man that he had rarely seen. 

"Good afternoon. I'm going to keep this brief, because we have a lot to get through, and there's still a lot of practical preparation to be done before the attack. We've brought a selection of weapons including crossbows, swords and stakes. On a larger scale, we also have flame-throwers and a new weapon with the advantages of normal automatic weapons except that the ammunition, while made of metal, is coated with a special resin derived from wood. Tests have shown that it is effective against vampires in excess of eighty percent of cases, so long as the slug embeds itself in the heart. The only disadvantage is that the result is not instantaneous. The resin has to dissolve in the victim's blood before it becomes effective. It's still an experimental weapon, but we have high hopes for it, and it has been agreed that this arena will be the ideal testing ground."

My team is trained in hand to hand combat as well as with the longer range weapons. If we include you, Stephen," he paused to make eye contact with the other man, "and Spike and Buffy, we have a total of eleven personnel available for the attack."

Grianne, Giles and Alasdair stood up together to object. Bill waved them to sit down again. "I'm sorry, I know what my team is capable of, and I know Stephen is a world class shot. The vampires should be a match for their own kind, but the rest of you will be a liability. I can't ask my team to take you in because they could risk their own lives trying to keep you safe."

Grianne stood up, speaking for the others. "You can't stop us from coming, and I for one absolve your team from taking any risk for my benefit. I assure you I am more than capable of looking after myself. Giles was Buffy's watcher and in the thick of more engagements than your team has been, and Alasdair…"

She was interrupted by Alasdair. "Ok, I know, My experience is in research. I've no field experience, and no special skills, but I'll be going along. This is too important. If we fail, we're looking at the end of the world as we know it. I for one, would rather die trying to prevent that, than live with the consequences of failure."

Bill's face had become redder by the minute. "We'll leave that for the moment, but I warn you, I haven't finished with this subject. I fully intend to have the senior committee of the Council of Watchers endorse my feelings on this matter. For now, we'd like some information from you. I understand you have first hand details on the layout of the factory. We've pulled the schematics, of course, but the factory was built to a generic plan - and intended to be adapted for specific use. We need to know the layout now."

Spike spoke up. Someone had thoughtfully provided a flip chart and he went to it. "Most of my information is five years old, but I was able to update some of the most crucial parts more recently. Any humans in the place will be in the basement. Angelus always maintains a live food supply for any of his minions who are unable or forbidden to hunt. The ground floor houses the vampires. There are several large rooms - little more than dormitories used by the minions. There are other rooms, but those should be quiet. If we attack at dawn, the dormitories will be fairly full. The general belief that vampires all sleep from dawn to dusk is a fallacy. Certainly we prefer to sleep during daylight, but most of us need a lot less sleep than humans, so don't count on everyone being asleep. In any case, Angelus keeps significant numbers of minions as sentries. Their job is security and they are very good at it. Angelus doesn't put up with them if they're not. These sentries will see us coming - there is no way we can avoid that. The entrances to the factory are all guarded."

Spike drew a quick sketch of the layout of the main floor. "If the main aim of this whole attack is to release Emily, then she is most likely to be in Angelus' bedroom which is here." He pointed to the place and remembered it with a shudder. "The rooms either side of that were Dru's and mine, so it's also possible she's in one of those."

He turned the page of the chart, and sketched the basement layout. "The significant part of the factory being in Sunnydale, is the fact that there is an exit from the factory to the tunnels. It's here," he pointed to one corner of the building. "There's also a possibility there's another access point here," he pointed to another corner, the opposite end of the wall from the first. "Or any point in between. The main tunnel in the area actually runs parallel to the factory at this point. Angelus has had five years to make the place secure, and he's not one to sit idly by when he has minions he can put to work. These exits will also be guarded."

Bill Small had watched Spike as he spoke. His initial look of distaste had faded as he took in the import of Spike's words. He didn't trust the vampire, but the information sounded good. "That's a problem," he said quietly. "The information I had before we flew out was that there were two exits from the building, both into daylight. Why didn't I know about the tunnels?" He glared about at those assembled.

"Well," Giles spoke up. "The tunnels were common knowledge when I was Watcher here. I documented what we knew then, and supplied the details to the Council when I retired. Copies were left here in Sunnydale for my successors."

"Talking of Watchers," Bill began, "where is Michael Barrat? He's the one we should be taking information from. I checked the records he supplied to the Council and there was no mention of tunnels."

There was an embarrassed silence as they all realised how ineffective he had been. 

Stephen answered. "Michael is preparing to go back to London. When the Slayer died, he considered his tenure here to be over."

With a look of disgust, Bill continued. "As I see it, we haven't got a chance in hell of doing this. The team I had in mind would be hard put to fulfil the assignment if the factory was as I had understood it to be. With exits to the tunnels as well, there's no way."

"I think," Grianne said with quiet dignity, "you'd better reconsider who's on your team. I can cover the tunnel exits with help from Giles and Alasdair. I should be able to put up a barrier spell, but I will need help. Giles, you have experience of magic, I understand."

Giles took off his glasses looking rather embarrassed. "Well, I have done a bit - particularly in my younger days."

Grianne looked at Alasdair who seemed increasingly uncomfortable. "It's ok, Alasdair, I really could use your help. I'm going to need back up throughout with what I've got in mind. If there are two exits, I'll leave you two at those exits, and I'll feed the power of the spell through you both. I might be able to do it myself, but it'll be much less draining to use you two as conduits. You can feedback the status of the barrier and it means I'm not trying to do everything at once." She turned her attention to Spike. "Will the guards be a problem?"

"No, if you stay outside, I don't think so. But, it would probably be worth arming yourselves just in case. Cross bows perhaps?"

Giles nodded at this suggestion. He had been about to make the same comment, and Spike went up in his estimation as a result.

Bill gave a sharp nod. "Ok, that sounds like a plan. Now, numbers. Spike?"

"I think we've got to assume the factory's at full strength. When I was last there, the number in residence was fairly low, but the evidence we saw the other night says that Angelus has brought in minions from further afield. I'd guess, we're talking three figures. Say a hundred to a hundred and fifty."

Bill accepted that information with a nod. "That'll mean we've got to use the new weapon. Cross bows are good, but they take too much time to load. Ok, so we've to Grianne's team in the tunnels, and the rest of us will attack the main entrance." He suddenly realised there was one hole in the plan. "How are you two going to get into the factory in daylight?"

"Wondered when you'd spot that." Spike's voice betrayed his irritation. "I'd suggest we make a minor change to the plan. We attack just **before** sunrise. That'll cover us. I'm hoping we'll get out via the tunnels, but if not, we'll just have to a sprint to the shadows opposite under whatever we can find. I've done it before, although it's risky."

With another nod, Bill got up from the table and started barking orders at his team. They purposefully left the room to prepare. When they had left, the others considered one another. They were quiet, not sure what to say. At last Grianne motioned to Alasdair and Giles. "Come with me and I'll let you know what I need from you."

They left, and Stephen immediately muttered something about making sure his weapons were ready before following the others. At last, Spike knew he was going to get his wish. He had wanted to get back at Angelus for taking Buffy, and had chafed at the need for caution. Buffy was also thinking with satisfaction about the possibility of thwarting Angelus, but both were considering for the first time the prospect that one or both of them might not make it. Without words, Buffy stood up and went to sit on her lover's lap, holding him and being held.

Buffy had been in exactly this sort of situation so often before. As the Slayer, going into danger, often against apparently insuperable odds, was just part of life. She did it, and she came back. In some respects, Spike had the same experience. In his case, Angelus made the decisions, and while he didn't balk at losing minions, he tried to make sure the odds were rather more in his favour whenever possible. In contrast, the experience Spike had with the Slayers was probably closer to what Buffy had known. In each case the odds were not necessarily in his favour.

They had never before faced danger of this magnitude together, and they found the prospect sobering. They had enjoyed patrolling together, but both wanted nothing other than to return to their home in its peaceful lochside setting. That possibility seemed a distant hope.

They returned to their room, both intending to make sure they had enough stakes. Other weapons they would borrow. When they were ready, they spent the rest of the day alone with one another, enjoying each other's company in every way. At last, they slept.

It was still dark when they were roused. The both got up and dressed quickly - two figures clad in black. The whole team assembled in the meeting room where weapons had been left out earlier. Breakfast was a hurried affair, a question of need rather than want. They went out to the waiting vehicles and made their way to Sunnydale in preoccupied silence. 

Grianne, Alasdair and Giles were dropped where they had good access to the tunnels. Giles was fortunately familiar with the layout of the underground network. They waited outside the factory, hidden by a spell until closer to dawn. There was no room for mistakes. 

The others continued on to the factory. They parked their vehicles out of sight and continued on foot. When the whole team was hidden in the shadows across from the main door, there were some last minute orders. It had been agreed that the other exit from the building could be ignored. Once the sun was up, it would be useless anyway.

Spike and Buffy waited until they knew the sunrise was imminent, then approached the building followed by the others. Buffy held a cross bow, but Spike had refused point blank to use one. He had stakes in his pocket, and a large sword in his hand. The others were armed, and the assault began.

As Spike had predicted, they were spotted as they made their approach, and there was a considerable welcoming party. The first wave of vampires fell in a flurry of cross bow bolts. Spike was reluctantly impressed by the Council team. He had read Alasdair's report on Stephen, so he knew he could use a cross bow, but the others seemed to be a match for him.

As Bill had noted, the crossbow volleys were not sufficiently rapid to keep up with the attacking force. Those using the new weapon didn't have that problem, but the vampires hit with those pellets weren't dusting. Spike knew there was supposed to be a delay, but surely it shouldn't take that long. A pause in fire gave him the chance to get into the fight. The vampire in front of him was unarmed, but he was extremely agile. Spike inflicted a number of injuries, but none of them incapacitated him. Instinctively checking for Buffy, he almost let him get too close, and he lost his sword in the process. Still, he preferred it that way. There was so much more satisfaction in hand to hand.

As the fight began above, Grianne and her two helpers were already in place. The barriers had been erected and the witch maintained a low murmuring as the two men held their hands out, directing the power at the exits. 

The barriers were almost transparent. They had a slightly blue glow, and a tendency to swirl - especially when touched. The attempts to get out to the tunnels started just after the noise of the battle above began. So far, the barriers were holding. Giles wondered just how long they could be maintained. His own experience with magic gave him enough insight to understand just how exhausting the spell must be for Grianne. He could feel the effect on himself already, and he was only the conduit. He was hoping that Grianne hadn't overestimated her own strength, because if those trying to get through were successful, those responsible for the barrier wouldn't stand a single chance.

Above, the first wave had dissipated. Spike found it rather unnerving when the vampire he was fighting suddenly dusted without apparent cause, as the pellet previously lodged in his heart, eventually did its job. He muttered a few choice profanities to demonstrate his discomfort. He was very glad the automatic weapons were on his side, but he still felt they were distinctly unnatural.

The group moved further into the factory, still on the lookout for further resistance. They beat off two further waves, each weaker than the preceding one. It wasn't that they were fewer in numbers, more that they were less well trained and experienced. Spike was surprised that they were beaten so easily. He was disappointed that there was no sign of Angelus, and suspected that the two phenomena were linked. Spike knew from bitter experience that Angelus was a gifted general. Of course, it helped that he didn't care how many of his troops died in an engagement.

In the absence of further opposition, they headed for the rooms occupied by Angelus and his family. This part of the factory was guarded, but they obviously weren't expecting an organised onslaught. They fell to cross bow bolts, and Spike yanked open the door to Angelus' room. A quick look around was all he needed to confirm what he had already been thinking. Angelus was gone. He was disappointed, and he could sense Buffy mirroring his feelings, but they still had a job to do. They were on their way to the basement when another wave of resistance erupted.

These were the vampires whose first thought had been to escape. They were not trained to fight, but they were desperate, and they were not fledglings. The battle raged for some time before it became apparent that the numbers were diminishing. At last, it was over, and the team fanned out to check out the whole of the warehouse. They found only a few stragglers who were easily dealt with. Spike recognised two of these as advisors to Angelus. They were more likely than most minions to know the whereabouts of their master, so they were taken for questioning. When they finally reached the basement, the captives there were released, and those with the task of cutting off the escape to the tunnels relieved. Grianne was very unsteady on her feet as the spell ended, and Giles and Alasdair were looking pale and wan. 

Small's team headed off to destroy the building to ensure that Angelus' main base was no longer available to him. Spike and Buffy took the opportunity to head back through the tunnels to an agreed pick up point. They took the captives with them to make sure they were still intact enough for questioning. The whole group returned to the house. They had had no fatalities, although four of Small's team had broken bones. Although the raid had been successful, they had failed in their most significant requirement. There had been no sign of Angelus or Emily. 

Bill Small and his team claimed responsibility for questioning the captives, and the others were relieved. The interrogation soon resulted in the knowledge that Angelus had fled along with Emily and his childe David. There was no information on their whereabouts. When she had recovered, Grianne was persuaded to try a truth spell on the by now terrified vampires. It had simply proved what they had said. They knew nothing, and were dusted without another thought.


	20. Chapter 20 The Ritual

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I know I haven't been updating this so often recently. Real life has been a little hectic, but _I hope to get back to more regular updates soon. If you're interested, I'm currently paying for support services, so if you put me on your Author Alerts, you'll get an email when I post something. I know I find it useful when I'm following a story._

Chapter 20 - The Ritual

Although he had left no childer at the factory, the demise of so many minions within a short space of time registered with Angelus. He guessed what had happened and was able to congratulate himself on getting out. The days remaining before the ritual would be long and he was not a patient creature, but he steeled himself to endure. 

He was glad that fledglings required so much sleep, as he took advantage of those times to bond with his childe. Of course, for simple sexual gratification, he could always use the two minions who had accompanied him, but it was always so much better with family. It was unfortunate that he couldn't abuse David as he wished to, but he didn't want Emily upset. He felt he was walking a tightrope with her. She had a soul, and therefore she saw things differently from other vampires. He had no idea the extent to which it would weaken the bond between David and her. Her thought process was almost human in its character, and had he had a scientific bent, Angelus could have learned a great deal from studying her. He, however, simply considered her a travesty, and after the ritual she would quickly learn first hand how horrific the life of a vampire could be.

The mood at the Council safe house was sombre. They had no further ideas on how to thwart Angelus, and they were running out of time. Their only plan was to send out teams day and night to try to locate him, and for Grianne to do what she could with magic.

Two nights before the appointed time for the ritual, Spike and Buffy had been out on patrol. Their patrols during the past few nights had had less to do with slaying vampires than with finding two specific ones. They arrived back at the safe house close to dawn, tired and frustrated by hours of searching with little to show for it. They were both hungry, and headed straight for the kitchen. There they bumped into Mike Smith and Dave Wilson. As Spike opened the door, Dave was standing behind it, and was hit on the head as a result. When they knew who was responsible, the two humans were unable to contain their irritation.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Trying to knock off the opposition for Angelus, eh?" Dave was holding his head, but the fury in his voice had nothing to do with any injury.

"Calm down, mate." Spike sounded conciliatory. "It was an accident, ok?"

"No, it's not bloody ok. You might have fooled Giles and Stephen, but the rest of us know. You're only here to make sure we don't find Angelus. Maybe it's time we did something about you."

At these words, Dave pulled a stake from his pocket, and Mike immediately followed suit. 

Spike's smirk was at its most irritating. "Look, Love, they want to play. What do you think? Should we give them a go?"

Buffy yanked Spike back, squaring herself up to the two Council men.

"Put those away."

"Oh, and who's going to make me?" Mike had pushed himself forwards to face the ex-Slayer.

None of them spotted the kitchen door opening.

"What the bloody hell's going on here?" Bill Small had come in quietly. 

"We were just going to get rid of these spies," Mike explained.

Small's face went red, and his two men paled noticeably. They looked at their boss for a few seconds before their eyes dropped to examine something interesting on the floor. 

Small turned to the two vampires. "What are you doing in here? Picking fights with my men isn't a good idea."

Without giving them a chance to answer, he turned back to Dave and Mike. "You two, get back to work. Aren't you due to go out to cover the centre of town this morning?"

There was a muffled "Yes Sir," from both of them followed by a "Well, get on with it!" from Small. 

When they had gone, Small gave one look at the two vampires which clearly told them they were not trusted by him either, before leaving the room.

Buffy and Spike grabbed their blood and warmed it quickly, before heading down to the basement. There had been several incidents since the storming of the factory, but this was the most worrying. Spike was furious, and it was only Buffy's calming hand on his arm that prevented him from taking his frustration out on Small or one of the others. The problem was that tempers were short all round, and they were both tired.

"Spike, let's just drink this, then go and have a shower."

"Together?" Spike's smirk was accompanied by him curling his tongue behind his teeth, and any tension between them was instantly defused - or at least modified to an altogether less harmful type.

Buffy laughed tolerantly. "Sure, if you want."

Things weren't much better with Giles, Alasdair and Grianne. Stephen was spending most of his time patrolling with the hit team, leaving the others in the house. Grianne was exhausting her magic repertoire in her efforts to locate their quarry, but she had had no success. Giles was determined to work out the way to re-join the two parts of Buffy's soul, but, despite glimmers that he almost felt he understood, was no further forward. Alasdair was doing his best to make sure the others could work without having to worry about anything else, and found himself a general gopher and cook. In fact, he was more than that, although he didn't realise it. It was Alasdair's soft tone and common sense attitude that kept things from blowing up completely. 

After their shower, the two vampires headed for the main room where Giles was working. They intended to just see how things were going before heading for a well earned sleep. Both knew better than to interrupt, but one look at him had Buffy very concerned. 

"Giles, when did you last sleep?"

Giles looked up blearily. "Wh..what? Why are you back? I thought you'd be spending the night patrolling."

Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. "Look out of the window, Giles."

He did so, and was surprised to see it was morning.

"I don't know what happened to the time," he admitted, getting out of his chair and stretching. His glasses were having a good clean as he rolled his shoulders.

"Where's Alasdair?"

"In bed, he went a short while ago."

"Good idea," he was told.

"No, I've just got to finish this. You see, there's a particular dialect of Latin, and the vocabulary was really rather distinct. There was a lot of Persian influence, and that in turn leads me to suppose that .."

Buffy held up a hand. "I don't understand, and I'm quite sure you'll understand better after some sleep."

He bristled at her words for a moment, but saw her resolve. His shoulders slumped as he realised she was right.

"Alright, just a few hours. I am feeling a bit … fuzzy. But, we've only got today. By tomorrow we've got to get to the Hellmouth. There won't be time for any more work on this then."

The two vampires took an arm each, and guided Giles up the stairs, before heading for their basement room.

The ritual was due to take place at midnight. During the daylight, the team assembled at the Hellmouth. Small's team was armed with everything they had brought with them. They spent a lot of time making the area secure. They had no new information, and in the end, their only hope was that they were wrong about the involvement of Sinistra. There was no resistance. To all intents and purposes, this confirmed that the ritual would not take place there, but they had no further ideas. There were simply too many possibilities.

Those who made themselves as comfortable as they could in the debris of the old high school, were actually two distinct groups. The only one accepted by both was Stephen, and he found his situation very uncomfortable. There was still open hostility between the vampires and the Council hit team, but it took the form of a strained silence while they waited for nightfall.

Several miles away, Angelus went about his final preparations with a sense of immense relief and anticipation. The irritation he felt at being trapped in a confined space, and having to be on (more or less) his best behaviour had left him feeling about to explode.

As the time drew towards midnight, he banished his two minions to the furthest part of the hideout. This was an event for family only. He thought how much sweeter the moment would have been with Dru. Forcing that thought from his mind, he started to explain the ritual.

Emily still clung to David. Angelus could feel the younger vampire's barely concealed annoyance and was glad that Emily was too naïve to notice. She hardly listened to Angelus' words until David told her to. 

"The ritual is quite simple. Before I start, I have to contact another being. Her name is Sinistra, and she is very powerful. She's going to start a little earthquake. Don't worry about that. Once we have the fault opened under here, I can complete the ritual. I have some words to say, and then I'll call for you. I will ask whether you are willing to give your blood freely for the cause of darkness. You will say 'I am'. I will then take this knife," he lifted a wicked-looking knife from the table. "and slit your wrist. Don't worry, we don't need a lot of blood. As soon as your part of the ritual is over, David will take you back out of the way, and he can bind your wrist. When the ritual is complete, Sinistra will be able to enter this world at will. She will no longer be limited as she is when she uses the effigy."

He looked at both his companions. David nodded firmly, indicating he understood. Emily's nod seemed unsure, but her Sire put a reassuring arm around her and she smiled up into his face. Angelus motioned the other two out of the way, and began to intone the invitation to Sinistra.

David had seen the process before, but Emily had not. He had tried to prepare her for what she would see, but she was very wary. Her initial fear when she knew she was a vampire had receded, and she was left with a more general confusion. She felt the balance between her soul and her demon shift depending on circumstances. When she was hungry, her demon became stronger. When she saw something evil, her soul called upon her to act against it. It was doing so now. Everything that had made her the Slayer was telling her that she had to stop what was happening, but her bond to her Sire, and her infatuation with him, were warring with her Slayer instincts. She didn't know how hard David was working at keeping the bond uppermost in her mind. 

David was alarmed. Despite his best efforts to keep his childe hungry, and to reinforce the bond at every opportunity, it was taking a great deal of effort to keep her under control. His body was rigid with the strain of it. He tried to warn Angelus that his control of Emily was on a knife edge, but he was so preoccupied with his dreams of coming glory that he didn't notice.

The statue of Sinistra became animated as it had before. The strange half-smile chilled Emily's heart. The other two seemed not to notice it. The conversation between Angelus and Sinistra was short. Within moments, the floor under their feet started to shake. David was forced to hold his childe closer, and increase still further the level of comfort he was radiating to her. At the height of the quake, the effigy of Sinistra fell off the table, breaking into several pieces. This didn't stop the quake, and all three vampires watched in amazement when the different parts of the statue reassembled themselves before their eyes. After what seemed like an age, the quaking lessened and eventually stilled. The statue lost its animation, appearing once again to be solid stone. Angelus looked in amazement at the room they were in. Almost nothing had been left in place. The quake had broken much of what they had brought with them, but the most impressive thing was the addition.

Towards the wall, a chasm had opened. It was about four feet across and it ran the whole length of the room. Angelus knew it ran a good deal further than that. One glance showed that the minions who had been exiled to the other room had disappeared - apparently lost. Peering down, there was no way to see the bottom. Angelus picked up a piece of rubble and dropped it into the chasm. He waited for several minutes, listening for the sound of it landing. It didn't come. Shrugging his shoulders, Angelus gathered up what he needed for the ritual from where it had fallen during the quake.

At the original Hellmouth, the Council team felt the earthquake and knew they had failed. The human faces became pale in the dim light, and they waited for the end of the world as they knew it. They saw a chasm forming from the location of the Hellmouth, splitting the ground at high speed, like cloth ripped apart. Even after the split had been made, it widened, stretching until it was several feet wide. 

When the tremors ceased, the two vampires and Giles were on one side of the opening, and the rest on the other. There was a flurry of activity, as the chasm was bridged to allow the others to cross so that they could exit the cavern. When that was done, the silence, after the noise was deafening. Grianne, Giles and Alasdair stood close together. Alasdair put an arm around two pairs of shoulders, and they braced themselves for what was to come. The hit team stood more or less to attention. Along with the others, they knew they had failed. Buffy and Spike stood together, both trying to maximise the contact between their bodies without scandalising the others present. Despite that, they made no move to be alone. They had already gone through a lot with some of the others, and it seemed right that they share this too.

Angelus was ready. His spirit was soaring. The ritual called for candles and some special words. That was all - apart from Emily's blood.

"With the blood of a warrior turned dark, I open the way. I claim the prize that has been promised. I open the way in the name of Sinistra, by all that is evil, grant this boon."

He paused and motioned to Emily to stand closer to him. Looking back at her Sire, the ex-Slayer moved forward, her steps reluctant. In her mind, David exerted the full extent of the bond. She loved him, but she knew this was wrong. 

Angelus was waiting for her. He picked up the knife, testing it on his own thumb. The scent of blood filled Emily's nostrils, and that was all it took to tip the balance. With the scent of blood in the area, her demon exerted its influence, and forced her to approach Angelus more assuredly.

Angelus continued. "I offer the blood of a warrior turned dark, freely given." He looked at Emily, who raised her eyes to his. "Do you give your blood freely?"

"I d..do." Emily's voice was a whisper.

He held Emily's hand in one of his own, turning it over to bare the soft part of her arm. With the knife, he made one deep cut across her wrist. She winced and took a deep breath as the knife cut into her, trying desperately to control the shaking which was starting to assail her whole body. Angelus roughly dragged her over to the chasm, squeezing her wrist tightly as the blood flowed into the unimaginable depths. It took some time. Angelus was starting to despair, when at last the earth started to tremble again. He pushed Emily away, and she fell in a heap where she landed. She instinctively looked for David, expecting him to run to her, to comfort her, but his eyes were fixed on the chasm.

As they watched, a familiar shape emerged from the depths. It was Sinistra, and yet it wasn't. Any resemblance to stone was gone. She was tall - taller than Angelus, and in her hand she held another, like her, but masculine where she was feminine. Sinistra emerged, dragging her brother with her. He was fighting, desperately trying to escape her clutches, but he couldn't. Sinistra didn't spare a glance at those responsible for her new-found freedom. She held her brother to her, and the double form seemed to shimmer. When it coalesced, the god was complete again. For the first time, it was dressed. The filmy material left little to the imagination. It was obvious that the body was complete. It still had the overt signs of both male and female sexuality. The voice which came from the now united mouth was definitely Sinistra.

"The way is open, and my age old conflict with my brother has ended. This world is mine. Approach me, Angelus."

Angelus boldly stepped forward. He had achieved everything he had set out to do, and he was ready for his reward.

Sinistra regarded him as if seeing him for the first time. "I promised you a reward. You will stand at my side in this world, and none but I shall gainsay you."

Angelus stood straighter as she said these words. The next words took him by surprise. "You will be my consort. Attend me."

For the first time in his very long existence, words failed the vampire. He hadn't heard any mention of his being a consort. He was supposed to have the power. He had assumed the hellgod would be too busy to take much notice of what was happening, leaving him, to all intents and purposes, to rule the world.

"Vampire," Sinistra brought his attention back to her. "You will be my consort. You are being given the greatest honour. Attend me."

As she said these last words, Angelus felt himself approach Sinistra, his feet following instructions which didn't come from his brain. When he was standing at the side of his god, Sinistra seemed to notice the other two vampires, but just as quickly dismissed them as unimportant.

Sinistra beckoned to the chasm from which she had risen, and her minions came forth. In general appearance, they looked like Sinistra. They were all dressed in similarly translucent gowns. They were smaller than Sinistra, but not by a great deal. They didn't wait for instructions, but instead rose to the surface by means of a void which had opened above. 

Casting her eyes towards David and Emily, Sinistra asked Angelus, "Are these yours?"

He managed to mumble an affirmative. He was feeling very unsure of his current situation.

Sinistra held onto Angelus, and she rose to the surface, David and Emily following as if propelled by an unseen hand.


	21. Chapter 21 The Ultimate Sacrifice

Chapter 21 - The Ultimate Sacrifice

Buffy felt the change in the world as it happened. She couldn't have described which sense it was that gave her the information, she just knew. She also knew by the way his body had tensed, that Spike felt it too.

The humans gathered at the Hellmouth also sensed something. The faces of the hit team were bleak. The others held more sadness. It was a while before anyone could speak.

Bill Small seemed to be the first to recover. He started giving orders, sending out not only his own team, but also the others to find out what was happening in the area. Giles was surprised, and said so.

"So, what are you going to do? Go back to your books? It hasn't made an ounce of difference so far, and it won't now. We've got to see if we can change things - somehow undo this, and that means getting out there."

Giles shook his head. "I agree there is a place for gathering information on the current situation, but I must insist that some of us do exactly what you seem to despise. We need to understand how to defeat Sinistra. The information is there, we just have to understand it. And, I must insist that Buffy and Spike come with me. They are central to the prophecy. All my efforts to understand it will come to naught if Sinistra gets to them. They are the only hope now, and I fully intend to do everything I can to defeat Sinistra. I know I can do it. I just need the key - something to build the translation around. When I've got that, the rest will be, well, if not easy, at least possible."

He turned to Grianne and Alasdair. "I'll understand if you wish to go with Bill, but I can use your help. There is a lot to do, and I'm sure I can keep you busy."

The other two looked at one another, and a silent communication passed between them. "We're with you," Grianne answered for both.

Small gave them a disgusted look before mentally rearranging his teams. "Stephen, you haven't said anything. Do you want to go back to the books, or do you want to actually do something about this?"

Stephen looked embarrassed. He could see both points of view, and knew Giles was right, but he also knew that up to date information was important. With a silent plea for understanding towards Giles, he said, "I'm with you, Bill. But we need to report back to the house. It'll still be the safest place for a base. It's hidden, and I'm not sure how effective it'll be against Sinistra, but it's the best we've got."

"Ok, Stephen, you take Walker and McLean. Barber, you take Smith and Lincoln. I'll take Wilson and Mullaney. Stephen, hit the centre of town. Barber, you head south, I'll head north. Get back to the house as soon as you've got important information, or by noon at the latest.

There were nods as the three groups headed out.

Those remaining gathered their belongings and emerged a short while later. The first thing they noticed when they came out into the night, was the sky. It was still dark, but it was a different type of dark. There was nothing clear or wholesome about the darkness. There were no stars visible. The air had a cloying consistency that made it seem hard to breathe.

The drive back was made difficult by the aftermath of the earthquake. Many buildings were without glass, and the roads were cracked in many places. Fortunately, they were the right side of the chasm, which now seemed to cut Sunnydale quite effectively in two. There was no evidence of the supernatural cause of the earthquake as yet.

The mood was sombre when they arrived at the house. Giles headed straight to the phone to call his family. It was a difficult conversation, despite their report that they hadn't sensed the changes yet. It seemed that Sinistra's influence would increase gradually. When they turned on the television, it was apparent that most of the US was still unaware of what had happened. That gave them time, but Giles' work on the prophecy was still the highest priority. He headed for his papers, which were spread over the table in the main room. Alasdair and Grianne went with him, willing to search, fetch or carry as the need arose.

Buffy and Spike decided they could help later. They needed some time alone. There was another room on the ground floor, which hadn't been much used since their arrival. It had several, large, squashy armchairs in it, and they went in, closing the door behind them. Had their bedroom been more comfortable, they might have gone there, but this seemed a good alternative. Spike sat in the largest chair, pulling Buffy onto his lap. They sat in silence for some time, lost in contemplation. The change in atmosphere they had sensed earlier was, if anything, stronger than it had been, and both found it oppressive. Instinctively, they sought comfort.

They had fed from one another during their time together, sometimes for sustenance, sometimes during moments of passion. They had rarely fed simply for the comfort it could bring. There was no discussion, they both simply bared their necks, and they drank.

The blood of Sire or childe intoxicated them both. For a long time they fed, taking blood very slowly, savouring each sip. They were no longer aware of the world, only of one another. That was the reason they didn't notice the door opening.

Giles stood in the doorway watching the two vampires while a spectrum of emotion flitted across his face. The first was rage. Spike was feeding from Buffy, hurting her. This was replaced by embarrassment when he realised that she was not being hurt, and that this was mutual feeding. He knew this was something intensely personal, and he wished they'd gone to their bedroom before becoming so intimate. The next expression was triumph.

The phrases in the translation, which were causing him so many problems, were tumbling through his head constantly. Their meaning as a whole escaped him, but there were constant hints of their importance. As he watched, those hints became more concrete. His mind was filled with a picture of the night Buffy had been killed. Spike had fed from her as he was doing now. It was then that Spike had taken part of her soul, when he was draining her lifeblood. He suddenly realised he understood one phrase in the prophecy. With that to work from, he turned his back and headed back to his papers with renewed enthusiasm. He had his first phrase, his frame of reference.

He didn't explain to Grianne and Alasdair when he returned to them. He simply started working feverishly, scribbling on a piece of paper. Within twenty minutes he stopped and stared at what he had written. His sudden stillness signalled to the others that he had found something significant, and they stood up to look over his shoulder.

"You can't be serious." Alasdair's voice seemed loud in the silence. 

Roused from his thoughts, Giles shook his head, then took off his glasses. As he cleaned them, he spoke. "I'm afraid I am. I .. I saw them - Buffy and Spike. When I went out a few minutes ago. They were feeding from one another. They didn't even know I was there, but when I saw it, I knew. It was when Spike drained Buffy that he took part of her soul. It had to be. And, logically, to reunite it, she has to drain him. I can't see another possibility. And when I took my idea, and applied it to the rest of the translation, it all made a horrible sort of sense."

"But think what that'll do to him," Alasdair argued. "You can't do that. You can't ask her to do that."

"I know what it'll do to him. It will send him mad with pain. I know that. And the only cure will be fresh, living blood. He won't have any restraint, and he'll need to kill to stop the pain. And, I don't know how I'm going to tell them."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," Grianne said, looking towards the door. The two vampires were standing there. Spike looked even paler than usual, but Buffy was livid.

"Forget it." Her voice was quiet, but her anger all too evident. Her eyes were trained on Giles, and they showed clearly that he had betrayed her.

Spike had a hand on Buffy's shoulder, and he was consciously trying to calm her. She shrugged his hand away and advanced towards Giles. Most men would have stepped back, away from her flashing eyes and apparently murderous intent. Giles stood his ground. She raised a hand to hit him, but Spike caught her hand and turned her to face him.

"Buffy, Love, listen. He's right. You know he's right. And if it's the only way to put this right, you'll do it. It's what you do. You're the Slayer."

"But, I can't. I can't let you suffer like that. And I can't let you feed after, so the pain won't end. I can't do it." Buffy's voice was breaking with emotion.

"You can, Pet. But, you'll have to stake me after. You're right, you can't let me go back to killing. I'd lose you if I did, and I can't live like that."

The others had looked on while the two vampires spoke. Grianne had tears in her eyes, and Alasdair and Giles kept clearing their throats. Buffy looked around, desperately searching for support from one of the others. She saw none, and turned and ran from the room.

Giles turned to the vampire he had once hated and said, "I'm sorry. I don't see any other way. If there was…"

Spike saw the regret on his face, and placed a hand on the other man's arm. "It's ok, Watcher. It makes sense. And, don't worry about Buffy. If I have to, I'll use the bond to make her do it. Just, ... just promise, if she won't stake me, you will, because by that time, I doubt I'll be coherent enough to make her do it."

Giles nodded dumbly to this request.

Alasdair was shaking his head, trying to see an alternative. "Wait, let's make sure I understand this. If Buffy drains him, he'll need blood. Bagged blood won't appease the demon, is that right?"

Both Spike and Giles nodded.

"How about animal blood?"

Another shake of the head.

"Ok, it has to be human, and alive." He took a deep breath. "In that case, he can have me."

Spike was the first to respond. "Wait, mate, you can't do that. I'd kill you. The pain is, well you don't want to know what it's like. I won't be thinking straight. The demon will be in control. Before, when Angelus did that to me, I'd be chained up. When he eventually sent Dru to feed me, the poor sod she gave me would just about get torn to shreds."

Alasdair walked closer to Spike so that he was looking straight into his eyes. "I trust you."

The import of these words hit Spike like a heavy weight. He looked at the highlander, desperately trying to understand what he had done to inspire such trust.

Giles interrupted. "Wait, Alasdair, I'm not saying you're wrong to trust him, although I think you're being a bit optimistic, but he'll need more blood than you can give without irreparable damage. Even if he can control it, he'll need more than you can give."

Grianne spoke up. "Then he can have me too."

This was too much for Spike. He walked away from the others, sitting on a chair at the far end of the table, and putting his head in his hands. He was in a maelstrom of feelings. It had started with fear and desperate unhappiness and love all rolled together. The last few moments had added others he couldn't even name.

Giles looked at the other two. He could see the determination on their faces, and understood. They considered Spike to be a friend, and they trusted him with their lives. They were probably being incredibly naïve, but they were right. He still had to understand the detail of how Buffy draining Spike would allow her to defeat Sinistra, but she needed to have hope. Fighting without hope is almost a guarantee of failure.

With a nod, Giles signalled his acquiescence. "He can drink from me, too."

The other two greeted his words with a smile, and Alasdair clapped the Englishman on the back. "But, Grianne, if there's anything you can do to help with this, it'd go down well. I trust Spike, but I'm not sure about his pain-maddened demon."

Grianne gave a small, mirthless smile. "I'll see what I can come up with." 

"Someone should tell Buffy," Alasdair reminded the others.

"I don't think she'll listen to me," Giles replied, his voice saddened when he remembered her reaction to his idea.

"Without speaking, Spike got up and left the room. He kept his face turned away from the others as he left, unwilling to allow them to see the tears in his eyes, and headed downstairs.

When she heard the door open, Buffy yelled, "Go away," without moving from her position on the bed. She was lying on her stomach, her head in her arms.

"Buffy," Spike started.

She ignored him.

He sat on the bed and started to run his hands over her back, feeling the sobs which still shook her body. He lay on his side beside her, and after a few moments, she turned to face him, her tearstained face seeing his - almost a mirror for her own.

He explained the offer that Alasdair and the others had made. His voice was awe-struck as he described the sacrifice they were willing make. Buffy shared a lot of this feeling, but understood it better. She had spotted the closeness that had sprung up between Spike and Alasdair. It had initially made her slightly jealous, as she had been so used to having Spike all to herself. That the others were also willing made her grateful. She just hoped their trust was justified.


	22. Chapter 22 The New World Order

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This chapter has had more re-writes than the rest of the story put together - hence the delay. I'll try to get the next chapter up before the end of the week, but I suspect that real life will intervene again.

Chapter 22 - The New World Order

Sunnydale after dark was its usual oblivious and ignoring self. Even after the earthquake, the inhabitants were sleeping, houses locked against the ever-present dangers they preferred to pretend didn't exist. There were some things they simply didn't talk about. Those who had lost someone to the demon menace were discussed in whispered tones, the actual words which would admit the existence of non-human intelligence in the town, never used. Deaths were caused by 'wild animals' or 'drug crazed gangs' or simply unexplained.

When she emerged to survey her new domain, Sinistra held her consort firmly by her side. Her minions were gathered above, and formed an honour guard for her. It was an industrial area. There were warehouses and small factory units. She scanned the location quickly, and by willing it to be so, an area of several acres was instantly flattened. On this site, a castle appeared. It was huge, with towers and battlements. It could have looked like something from a fairytale, were it not for the dark hues of the stone. 

Sinistra looked around her. "Not much of a welcome, is it?" She turned to Angelus, asking him, "Where are the humans? You told me there were millions of souls for the taking."

Angelus looked up at the cruel beauty in the now complete face. "The people will be in their homes. It's dark, and they are afraid of my kind. When the sun rises, the streets will be full of them."

She nodded, sending out her senses to the distance. "Good, my minions have gone too long without human souls."

She turned to them. "You have supported me through aeons of struggle. The time of your reward is here. Go, and feed."

She watched as her minions dispersed. It took a few minutes, but then, the still night air was filled with unearthly screams. Emily shivered at each one. They seemed filled with pain and despair such as she had never heard before. She wanted to rush to David for comfort, but she remembered how he had ignored her during the ritual. She was no longer sure of her welcome to his arms, and held back. To her surprise, he approached her, putting his arm around her. She realised he was unhappy about their current situation too. 

One by one the hermaphrodites returned. Sinistra looked with satisfaction at the sight of her underlings, all sated and strong. "Go about your business," she ordered.

They dispersed, some going into the castle, others ranging further afield. They all seemed to understand their roles without direction. 

Two minions remained, and she directed one of them to obtain food and bring it to the castle. Then she turned and pulled Angelus after her as she entered the castle. The other two vampires were unsure of their invitation, but followed anyway.

They walked through endless stone corridors before they came to their destination. The room was huge and ornately decorated. It was furnished with a large bed and several small tables surrounded by lavishly upholstered chairs. There were two doors. One led from the corridor. The other led into a smaller bedroom. "This will be yours," she told David and Emily. "You will remain in the castle for now, but my minions will bring whatever you desire." She pulled Angelus after her as she closed the door, leaving the other two vampires alone. 

She turned to Angelus, saying, "Alone at last, my consort. I regret that there will be many things which need my attention for now, so I cannot train you as I would wish. Just understand, that you must remain here. My consort cannot be free to wander the world without me. My minions will bring whatever you desire. In time, if you wish, you will be able to have human or vampire slaves of your own. In the meantime, you must be patient. This world will be run for my pleasure, and if I am content, your own pleasure will exceed your wildest expectations."

The minion who had been sent for food arrived clutching a man and a woman. She bowed reverentially before Sinistra holding the two humans out as though they weighed no more than a dish of food. The Hellgod smiled in anticipation, holding out her hands to grasp the woman. She placed her hands on her chest, and the scream that resulted told of pain and anguish. When the scream died away, Sinistra dropped a now limp body on the floor. She turned to the man, whose eyes were almost popping from their sockets in terror. He started to struggle anew, but he could do nothing. His scream, when it came, was similar. 

"So much better. I feel the power of their souls suffusing me," Sinistra commented. "Take the debris away."

Angelus could hear the heartbeats of the two humans, so he knew they were alive. "What are you going to do with them?" 

"Do you want them?" Sinistra's voice was taunting.

"No," Angelus' reply was scathing. "I prefer my prey to feel fear. They feel nothing."

"They don't, do they?" Sinistra's tone implied that she had never given the idea much thought. "They'll live, they'll make sure they have what they need to survive. Food, water, sex, whatever. They'll take what they need. Of course, the rest of the human population will come to fear the soulless ones, and they will probably be killed. It all adds to the atmosphere of fear which gives a world such piquancy."

She regarded Angelus with a critical eye. "You will find more appropriate attire in the wardrobe. Remember you are my consort. You belong to me. I hope to return soon, so that you will understand your role properly." With that, she left the room.

As soon as he was alone, Angelus brought his fist down on the nearest table with a roar of rage and frustration. It shattered, sending pieces of wood skittering around the floor. He had imagined being in the vanguard of Sinistra's attempts to bring about a literal hell on earth. To find himself cloistered away, unseen and unseeing was pretty much his own personal idea of hell.

With a great deal of trepidation, he opened the wardrobe. To his disgust he found a number of robes similar to those worn by Sinistra's minions. He pushed the door closed again, getting little satisfaction from the sound of splintering wood as it hit home.

He tried to leave the room by the same exit Sinistra had used, and found it barred by two of her guards. They politely but firmly pushed him back inside and closed the door behind him. That simple contact showed him that he would not be a match for them physically.

With another bellow of rage, he went to David and Emily's room. Pulling his belt from his trousers, he decided to vent his frustration in the only way that remained to him.

Stephen's team had walked for some time without seeing anything unusual. The sun was rising when they spotted the castle. It was still some distance away, and they approached it carefully.

The closer they got, the more people they found on the streets, but there was something seriously wrong. Some seemed simply lost. They wandered aimlessly, and didn't respond when spoken to. Others were still more worrying. Some were fighting, and after a while they spotted one man apparently ripping lumps of flesh from the carcass of a woman. Stephen felt his stomach heave at the sight, and forced himself to look away. A little further on, they came across two men, apparently fighting over a woman. Both were trying to pull her from the other, and the woman was screaming in pain, both shoulders seemingly dislocated. Stephen decided he had seen enough. He motioned to the others, and they headed back to their transport to return to the house.

Bill Small's experience was different. He was nowhere near the castle, and he didn't see any unsouled humans. He saw a minion attacked by a Xalor demon. Small had come across Xalors before. They were feared by anyone who had ever had the misfortune to meet them. They were extremely aggressive and very hard to kill. It took Sinistra's minion less than a minute to break its neck. Considering that Small knew from personal experience that the neck bone of a Xalor demon was made of a material stronger than anything else ever tested, he had to admit he was impressed. 

Still, he reasoned, it was just one minion. From his hiding place, he gestured to his team to hit the hermaphrodite with automatic fire. They did so, but all it achieved was to give away their location. The filmily clad hermaphrodite advanced on the men. They continued to fire, and Small wished he had brought the flame throwers, but it was too late. He gave the order to run. Unfortunately, their pursuer could also run. Mullaney tripped over some of the debris from the earthquake and the demon fell on him. The other two turned in horror when they heard him scream. The both knew they should run, that there was nothing they could do for their comrade, but they stood in horrified fascination as Mullaney fell to the ground dazed and empty. The demon followed him to the ground, and started to pull at his clothing. Small guessed what was going to happen, and grabbed Wilson, pulling him after him.

"Don't look back," he told the other man.

"But, it's going to … "

"I know, but there's nothing we can do. The only thing we can do is get away, and find a way to put this right."

At the house, morning saw Giles still hard at work. The two vampires had not been seen since the previous night. Grianne was consulting her own books, and regretting that so much of her information was at home. She had an idea, and she could remember the details, she just wasn't sure of the efficacy in the situation they were going to face. She was desperately looking for a recent reference to its use, but she could find nothing.

Alasdair was standing outside the house. He had watched the sunrise. In the same way that the night had had a different character since Sinistra had arrived, the day seemed different. There was daylight, but it was muted somehow. It wasn't California sunshine, nor was it overcast. 

When Alasdair came back inside, he saw Giles nodding off over the table, so he insisted on helping him to his room to sleep. In truth, he and Grianne were in need of sleep too. 

The two vampires had held one another for a while after Spike told Buffy about the sacrifice his friends were willing to make. Silence eventually gave way to discussion, and, in turn, they slept. 

Spike had wakened with the sunrise, but lay still, trying not to disturb Buffy. His thoughts were full of the events of the previous night. In particular, he remembered his conversation with Buffy.

"I still won't do it," Buffy told him. "You're asking me to hurt you. To let you hurt your friends - Giles - I can't."

"You have to, Love. I don't want to, but if I have to, I'll force you to do it."

Buffy looked at him, shocked. "You wouldn't," she stated, but her tone of voice showed her doubts.

"Don't want to. I promised I'd never force you, but this's too important. I don't know how this world's going to turn out, but if Angelus has any say, we've got to put things right. You know what he's capable of. Can you imagine him helping to run the world?"

Buffy had considered that for a while. She had seen at first hand how Angelus had treated Dru. And he cared for Dru - as much as he cared for anyone. The horror on her face at the prospect had been apparent. She hadn't given an answer, but she had pulled closer to Spike, and he knew she understood the necessity of what had been proposed.

Morning saw Emily cowering in the corner of the room. Angelus and David were asleep on the bed. The past few hours had been a lesson for the ex-slayer. She had trusted David. She thought she loved him. She thought he loved her. Yet, when Angelus wanted to have her, David hadn't shown any feeling at all. They had both abused her for their own pleasure. She was angry and afraid. She had tried to leave the room, but had been turned back by the guards. She didn't know what else she could do. 

When Sinistra returned to Angelus, she found Emily in the corner, her body covered in welts. She had pulled her clothes back on, but they were ripped and torn. A single glance was all it took for Sinistra to understand what had happened. For the first time, she seemed to notice the girl specifically. She beckoned Emily to her, and she reluctantly followed, leaving the two men undisturbed.

When they were alone, Sinistra held out a hand to the trembling figure in front of her. "I feel your anger, child," she said. "You have been betrayed by one you thought loved you. That is the way of men. But your unhappiness is delicious. The betrayal of the innocent always has its own delicate piquancy." 

She paused to consider the girl before adding, "You have a soul. I had not realised such a thing was possible. Is it not the case that when the demon enters the body, the soul must flee?"

Emily did her best to pull herself together. "N..normally. But, I was the Slayer. I kept my soul."

Sinistra put a hand out to Emily, touching her on the chest. Emily winced as she felt something being dragged from her body. The pain was intense, but somehow, nothing else changed. Sinistra took her hand away, and looked perplexed. "Your soul is too well anchored. I cannot take it. For me, and my minions, human souls are the best source of nourishment for our bodies and our minds. I have never before found one so anchored I could not devour it."

Sinistra regarded Emily in puzzlement. "I really don't want to know what to do with you. You're no good as food. Even your body is useless. My pets won't touch dead flesh. Your soul will cause problems if you remain here. I could just stake you, of course, but you were responsible for the opening of the Hellmouth, so perhaps I'll be charitable. Leave."

At the look of surprise on Emily's face, Sinistra repeated herself. "Leave. If you get in my way, you will die. For now, go. Tell those you meet that there is no point in fighting me. I am stronger than anything this world can produce. I feed primarily on misery, but I need souls to grow stronger. There are more than enough here for my needs. So, leave."

Emily still hesitated, and she felt her body pushed towards the door. She started to run through the maze of corridors, realising as she approached the entrance to the castle that it was daylight. She tried to stop, but she was still being propelled by an unseen force. She was outside before she could slow significantly, and expected to feel the flames as she combusted. Nothing happened. Unwilling to stop and think about anything right away, Emily ran, and didn't stop until she could no longer see the castle behind her.

When she paused, she tried desperately to decide where she should go. Her first thought was Michael. She headed for his house, avoiding people as she ran, but found it deserted. She checked through the window, and saw the empty living room and realised he had gone. She wracked her brains to think of an alternative. The only other possibility she could think of was the safe house. She reasoned that Michael must have gone there, that he had known what was going to happen. She wondered what had happened to the other people from England, whether they had gone home, or if they were still in Sunnydale. She started to run. It was a long way, but she didn't have anything else to do.

Sinistra returned her attention to her consort. He wakened as she entered the room, and she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the larger room. David slept on, oblivious.

With a wave of her arm, Angelus' body was swept against the wall, his feet a metre off the floor. He looked at her in shock. Her cruel face was pulled into a mask of annoyance.

"I made you my consort, and this is how you behave? I left you for a few hours, and you spend the time taking your pleasure with them? Your first lesson in how a consort behaves begins now. You belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Any pleasure you experience will be because I will it. And I think it will be a long time before I will it." She waved her hand again, and Angelus' body began to spasm in agony. All rational thought left him as every muscle in his body started to tear from the tremors that wracked him. He was not even able to scream. He tried to, but none of his muscles would obey his instructions. To his horror, Angelus saw Sinistra leave the room, entering the one where David still lay.

Sinistra looked at David, taking in the results of the beating he had taken, and the blood that remained around his nether regions. Realising he had been used as the girl had, she simply staked him as he slept. 

As she ran, Emily had ample opportunity to observe the reaction of the people of Sunnydale to the latest disaster to overtake their home. She came across a few of the 'soulless' people but didn't stop to investigate. The rest of the inhabitants seemed to be trying to persuade themselves that the only problem was the earthquake. Everywhere she looked, she saw people boarding up shattered windows, and sweeping debris from the streets. The only hint that there was more to this than a natural disaster, was the fact that everyone seemed distinctly nervous.

She had a bit of excitement along the way. She came across a couple of vampires attempting to feed in broad daylight on a couple in an alley. She jumped into action, and quickly dusted them before advising the humans to be careful.

The various teams which had been out and about in Sunnydale had returned to the house during the morning. There had been only one casualty. They reported what they had seen, then went to get some rest. They didn't fully understand what had happened to Mullaney, and were looking to Giles for an explanation. He had some ideas, but was too busy working on his translation to give it more serious thought.

It was dark. Small, Barber and Stephen had taken their teams out again, patrolling this time by car. They had decided to try to get a closer look at the castle, but didn't expect to be out long. 

Emily arrived at the safe house as dark fell. She had sensed the demise of her Sire as she ran, and it had hit her so hard, she had to find somewhere to rest. She had sat, her back against a tree trunk, trying to come to grips with the void she felt inside her. It had been several hours before she felt well enough to continue. She approached carefully, unsure of her welcome. Her first thought had been to contact Michael, but on the way, she remembered Michael's reaction to the vampire Spike. If he felt the same way about her, she might be in trouble. 

Two vampires and three humans had assembled in the main room. Giles wanted to share his latest ideas with those most closely affected by them. As he started to speak, Buffy sensed a vampire approaching. She and Spike got up and went to the door.

They were surprised when they heard a timid knock. Both half expected Angelus, and there was no way he would have knocked like that. They opened the door, and found Emily waiting. Her clothing was dishevelled and torn, and she looked terrified. Without thinking of the potential dangers, Buffy called to Grianne to invite the vampire inside.

As soon as she was over the threshold, Emily dissolved in tears in Buffy's arms. She recognised her fellow Slayer instinctively, and knew she had found someone who would understand. Her whole body shook with the force of her misery, and Buffy could do nothing but support her body. Spike and Grianne looked on as Alasdair and Giles joined them in the hallway.

Seeing the state of her clothing and the skin which appeared through the rends in it, Buffy and Grianne took the girl upstairs. There they helped her to shower, and found her a change of clothes. One of Buffy's tops fitted well, but her trousers were too short. In the end, Grianne offered a skirt which was a little big for Emily's waist, but with a bit of ingenuity, it was made to work. They took her downstairs, gently telling her to take her time. 

Since Emily was initially unable to speak, Giles explained what they knew of what had happened. She didn't seem surprised when she heard that Michael had left. She had been let down by everyone she relied on, so there was no reason to expect more. She started to tell what she had seen, and during the story, Spike left the room. He returned a few moments later with a mug filled to the brim with blood. He handed it to Emily wordlessly, and the girl accepted it with a look of surprise. She was very hungry. She hadn't fed other than from David for several days, and that was never enough. She grimaced at the unfamiliar taste of pig's blood, but drank it gratefully. 

Buffy squeezed Spike's arm, silently thanking him for noticing what none of the others had. They had all been so intent on sharing information, they hadn't noticed she was half starved.

After eating, Emily felt more able to speak. When she got to the part about not combusting in daylight, and having to slay vampires at mid-afternoon, Giles was intrigued.

"Are you sure about this? It wasn't just you? Vampires no longer need to avoid sunlight. They weren't just in the shade, perhaps?"

"No," she responded firmly. "We were fighting out in the open. The sunlight didn't seem too bright, but there wasn't any cloud cover."

Alasdair brought the conversation back to its original purpose.

"Emily, Giles has some ideas about what we need to do to destroy Sinistra. He's been working on the prophecies, and we were going to try to come up with a workable plan."

"Well," Giles began, "as some of you know, I realised last night, that, in order for Buffy's soul to be reunited, she will have to drain Spike. Now, that's not a pleasant prospect, I know, but we're going to take some precautions. Now, the details. It seems that there was a reason for Spike 'borrowing' Buffy's soul. Now, this is not a perfect analogy, but, imagine the human kidney. If someone has a damaged kidney, and it has to be removed, in time, the remaining kidney can do the work originally done by two. In the case of Buffy's soul, being split, as it has, should have made it stronger. The part she has now should be equal to the whole when she died. It may be that Spike's half has similarly strengthened."

He paused, letting this sink in. "There's more, though, and this is what is particularly useful in this case. From what Emily has told us, Sinistra is complete. She has taken over the male half of herself. That part has been subjugated, but his strength remains a part of her. I believe that when Buffy drains Spike, she will take more than the rest of her soul. I believe she will take something of his spirit - his masculine strength. I really don't know what form it will take, but, it seems that only someone with both male and female aspects to them could hope to defeat the complete Sinistra."

"What about the soul stealing?" Emily asked. "Remember I said that Sinistra told me my soul was too well anchored for her to steal it. Does that mean Buffy's soul is anchored too?"

Giles shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know for certain. If it is a Slayer thing - that would make some sense because, Slayers seem to keep their souls when they are turned. But, we know Buffy didn't retain her complete soul, so I don't know for sure. There is an awful lot of this we're going to have to take on trust, I'm afraid."

Buffy spoke to Giles for the first time since the previous night. "Is timing important? Do I have to do this … at a specific time or place?"

Giles looked pleased that she had addressed him. "Nothing I can see. But, I would suggest, the sooner the better. From what Emily has told us, Sinistra's going to get stronger with every soul she devours."

He paused again, knowing what he was about to say would upset Buffy again, but he had no choice. "I would suggest we do it in the basement. There are chains there - the ones used for Dru." 

He saw Buffy tense at the suggestion of chains, and she started to speak when Spike interrupted.

"We'll need the chains, Love. It's ok."

She started to protest, but the pleading look in his eyes stopped her.

Grianne looked at the two vampires, feeling their pain. "I'm afraid I've got no guarantees. I've got a spell, an ancient spell, and I'm just not sure how well it will work. There have been instances of people being possessed by demons since before history. Some of the reported instances are simply mental illness of some sort. A small percentage is actual possession. Since the coming of Christianity, the cure for possession is exorcism. But, before Christianity, there was another option. Its aim wasn't to destroy the demon. That was impossible, at least without also destroying the victim. The aim of the spell was to pacify the demon. The spell hasn't been used for a very long time. For genuine possession, exorcism is the best choice, and for mental illness, medical treatment. I plan to use the spell on Spike. I have no idea if it will help, but it's the best I can do."

"But, we can check it, can't we?" Buffy needed reassurance. "We can make sure it works first, can't we?"

Grianne looked at her sadly and shook her head. "I only have enough ingredients for one attempt. And, even if it doesn't work, I have nothing else to suggest."

Spike had listened intently, and seemed lost in his own thoughts. After a few seconds, he shook his head gently, as if trying to clear his head before speaking. "Ok, we know what we've got to do here. What does Buffy have to do afterwards?"

"Well, that's less certain. She must engage Sinistra. There is a hint that she will have help 'from within', but there's nothing else on that. The problem is that the rest of us are vulnerable. From what we know, any human getting within touching distance of Sinistra or her minions is liable to lose his or her soul. Once that happens, they seem compelled to live what remains of their life functioning only on the lowest level. They feed, on what- or whoever is available. Their other, er, needs, are similarly answered. They take whatever their bodies need or want, but there is no humanity left."

"I can help," Emily told them.

They all looked at her in surprise. "They can't take my soul. I'll do what I can."

"Thank you Emily," Giles continued. "I suspect that Grianne, Alasdair, Spike and I will be of little use. The requirements of draining Spike mean we'll all be out of commission for a while, and that's only if everything goes well. If it doesn't, …"

He paused, unsure how to say what he was thinking.

"Spit it out, Watcher." Spike's voice was hard. "If I can't control the bloodlust, some or all of us will be dead." He stopped to make sure everyone understood the sacrifice his friends were willing to make. "So, when do we do it?"

Giles looked at Grianne. "Let's get a few hours sleep. Can we plan to go ahead at dawn?"

The witch nodded, and got up to prepare.

"I'll explain to the others when they come back," Alasdair offered. 

Giles nodded his appreciation and headed for the phone. He was fully realising for the first time that he might never see his wife or daughter again, and he really needed to hear their voices.


	23. Chapter 23 A Soul Reunited

Chapter 23 - A Soul Reunited

Two vampires made love desperately that night. They both knew that the chances of both of them surviving the next few days were remote. On top of that, there was the added problem of whether their love could withstand Spike becoming unsouled. That was the huge unknown factor, but the evidence of what happened to the humans whose souls were taken by the hermaphrodites couldn't be said to bode well. Even without a demon, the soulless humans lost their basic humanity. They were no longer able to operate on higher levels. They seemed unable to understand anything beyond their own needs. They weren't intrinsically evil, but that was the best that could be said.

They didn't talk much. There was nothing either could say that would make things seem better, so their communication was entirely physical. Each touch was intended to say what words could not.

At last they slept. It was a sleep which resulted from physical exhaustion, and said nothing of easy minds.

No sooner was she asleep, than Buffy was dreaming. She was home. It was a beautiful sunny day. The temperature was cool, but the water of Loch Maree glittered like a huge precious stone in the sunlight. The incongruity of being outside her home in daylight didn't hit her. She had only ever been to Scotland as a vampire, and the scene she was looking at was something seen before only at night. She was alone. This was also odd. The one constant in her life in that place was Spike. She could no more imagine being there without him, than she could imagine never having been the Slayer. 

The sand was wet underfoot. Each step squeezed the water directly under her, leaving the sand a paler colour. She was expecting to meet someone, but she couldn't remember who it was. 

The figure suddenly loomed in front of her. That shouldn't have been possible, because the beach was deserted, and there was nowhere to hide. She recognised her immediately. Sinistra looked as she remembered the half-effigy of Dexter had looked. The face, although complete, had the same beautiful cruelty. She was clothed in a translucent gown that glinted in the sunlight, throwing off a myriad of pinpricks of light. Her hair was dark, and fell to her waist. 

The two paused, about three yards apart. They appraised one another, two who knew they were enemies, but for whom hostilities were currently on hold. 

"So, you are the one who was foretold." Sinistra shook her head as she spoke. "I had expected something …. Bigger."

"Size isn't everything," Buffy reminded her. "I'm, or I was, the Slayer. The size doesn't matter. When the time comes, I'll still kick your ass."

"Foolish child, I'm not a vampire. I'm not a demon. I'm a god. You think you can defeat a god? If it wasn't so pitiful, it'd be funny."

"I can defeat you. That's what the prophecy's all about. You see, I've been around prophecies before. It always seems like there's no chance, and then, somehow, there's a way. Don't see it yet, but it'll happen."

For the first time, doubt crept across Sinistra's face. It was the merest glimmer of doubt, but Buffy caught it. 

"You don't know how it's going to happen either, do you? You don't have any extra information. So, you do what you have to do, and I'll do what I have to. Give it your best shot, and we'll see if I'm 'big enough'. I was kinda tired of being 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. Maybe 'Buffy the god Slayer' will sit better."

The look Sinistra gave her was one of pity. "So brave. It's a pity I can't devour your soul. It would be exquisite. I can feel it from here, its energy, its vibrancy. It would be the most delicious treat. A delicacy fit for the ruler of the earth."

Immediately, the shore of Loch Maree disappeared, and Buffy could see the earth under Sinistra's rule. Somehow she knew several years had passed. The earth was overrun by the soulless humans. The resources of the rest of humanity were stretched to their limits trying to keep that menace under control. The hermaphrodites were everywhere - taking souls at will. Governments had fallen to the threat. There was never any official admission that the cause of the problem was not of earthly origin. The soulless ones were seen as having been hit by a disease, and in the early days, the efforts went to finding out the virus responsible, and eradicating it. Soon, however, those efforts were curtailed to allow now diminishing resources to concentrate on eliminating those affected before they could kill and maim those still whole. 

Buffy saw this and wept. For the first time she could see the alternative to her draining Spike. Even if that ended his existence, even if that ended their love, the alternative was such that those who died early could be considered the most fortunate.

Buffy woke, sure she would find her dead heart hammering in fear. It was silent, but the feeling remained. With conscious effort, she snuggled closer to Spike, desperate to sleep again.

As she pulled closer to him, Spike reciprocated, moving his arm to hold her closer than before. He wasn't awake, but felt her need regardless. As his sleep deepened, he saw the world laid out before him. It was a world where fear and misery ruled. Humanity was fighting a losing battle against its own kind, as the soulless ones overran the world. He felt his demon exult at the pain all around him. There was food in plenty. The soulless no longer made any attempt to avoid his kind, and sunshine was no longer a danger. Vampires were free as they had never been before. There was nothing they needed to fear.

Spike's demon enabled him to feel the pain of humanity. But, while the demon revelled in the sensation, Spike cried inside. His misery was complete, because he knew that Buffy had failed, and was no more. He had thought that was the darkest thing that could ever have happened to him, but he had seen other things to rival it. Whole families torn apart by the soulless ones for food. Children abused in the basest way imaginable to fulfil other needs. He could see it all, and the knowledge that Buffy was gone, and couldn't see what the earth had become was a comfort. He longed to end his own existence, but knew he could not. This was his punishment for his crimes. Somehow, he knew it. He could never earn redemption, and eternity in the hell that was the earth was his reward.

His sobbing woke Buffy. She sat up beside him, gently shaking him, desperate to make him understand it was a dream. He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him, her expression one of concern and love. He pulled her down to him, burying his face in her hair to calm himself, before kissing her. The kiss grew until other needs would not be ignored, and neither of them slept again that night.

Angelus spent the night in his own personal hell of pain. Even Darla had never inflicted such agony on him, but somehow, his mind remained intact. There was no refuge for him. He felt every nuance of it and knew it would never be forgotten.

It was dawn when Sinistra returned. Negligently, she allowed him to fall to the ground, and the pain was gone. Well, no, not gone. Simply, no longer active. The damage would take some time to heal. Angelus panted in relief. He felt unable to move, and lay where he had fallen.

"Get up, my consort," Sinistra commanded.

Angelus had been giving commands for two hundred years, and he recognised this as a command. Despite the renewal of agony, he slowly got to his feet. Sinistra was lounging on the bed, beckoning him to her. 

"I thought I told you to find some more suitable attire," she reminded him. "No matter, you won't need clothing for a while. It's time for your first lessons as my consort. If you please me, your pain will end, instantly. If you do not, … , but of course, you want to please me, don't' you?"

Somehow, Angelus found the strength to grunt an affirmative. He thought he knew what was expected of him, and didn't have any idea how he was going to perform. In fact, it was at the same time both better and worse than he had suspected. Sinistra remained dominant during the hours that followed, and his main role was to endure.

Morning in the safe house broke gently, as if it knew it brought sadness in its wake. Small's team were unusually quiet. Alasdair had told them what was planned, and they seemed to have decided to keep out of the way. After breakfast, Spike, Buffy, Alasdair, Giles, Grianne and Stephen descended to the basement. The two vampires hadn't shared their dreams. Neither wanted to make the other feel worse than they already did. 

Buffy hadn't broken her fast with the others. She felt instinctively that she would find it less difficult to drain Spike if she was really hungry. She gave him a last, long hug before Stephen and Alasdair led him to the cell where Dru had been chained. Spike held up his hands to facilitate his manacling. When he was secure, Grianne prepared her spell. 

Buffy watched from outside the cell. She didn't feel part of her own body. It was as if someone else had taken it over. She was locked away somewhere, lost and afraid.

When the spell was complete, Alasdair spoke to Spike.

"How are you doing?"

"Ok, mate. Not sure if the spell made a difference. Suppose we'll just have to wait and see." 

He looked at his shoes for a moment.

"Listen. If I …. If I … you know, kill someone. Stake me, please. Don't let it be more than one."

Alasdair looked at his friend with tears in his eyes. "Don't worry, Spike. You won't kill anyone."

"Listen mate," Spike retorted. "There's no guarantee. Just promise me. Just bloody promise me."

Alasdair nodded, no longer able to speak.

Somehow, the conversation brought Buffy back. She approached Spike, wondering how she was supposed to drink with this huge lump in her throat. The faces of Grianne and Giles were also damp. Stephen alone was dry-eyed, but she noticed his hands were shaking.

When she reached him, she leaned forwards, capturing his mouth on hers, kissing him and feeling his response. At last, she broke away, and before she could give it further thought, her face changed, her fangs elongating. She plunged them into his neck and began to drink.

She had done this so often before. Sire's blood was the best. Its flavour unlike any other. She felt it filling her with strength and power. She drank past the point of comfort. She carried on as she sensed the tension in his body as his demon started to fight the blood loss. She knew Spike's face had also changed, and knew he was instinctively trying to find her neck, so that he could drink from her. Mercilessly, she held his head tighter, stopping him from being able to reach her. She continued to drink when the howling started. She desperately wanted to block out that awful sound, and it broke her heart to hear his pain. She carried on drinking until there was nothing left, and his howling had reached the pitch that she felt would burst her ear drums. 

As she pulled away, she saw him. He snarled at her, desperately pulling at his bonds. She stopped, wanting to know he would be alright, but Stephen took her arm. As had been arranged, he led her up the stairs to meet Small and Emily, and the four of them got into a car and headed for the castle. The others from Small's teams were already waiting in other vehicles, and were armed with flame-throwers and automatic weapons.

Buffy cowered in the back seat during the journey. Emily held her, willing her strength into her fellow Slayer. She was scared. The hope of the whole world was contained in the woman next to her, and her strength and will to live seemed gone.

She didn't really understand it, but she knew she had to talk - had to somehow force Buffy out of her stupor.

"I've never seen love like yours before. I mean, you hear that someone loves someone else. You see married couples, and you assume they love each other. My mom and dad loved each other, but when she died, it was as if the love destroyed him. It wasn't a good thing. He couldn't love me any more, because the others were dead. I thought love for one person couldn't affect what you feel for someone else, that's what they say, isn't it? What you and Spike have is special. You love each other, but you're still willing to risk that for the world. I think, that's the sort of love that stays, you know? It's not going to go because he hasn't got a soul any more. It couldn't. Even if some of what he feels is because of the soul, it's not the whole story. There's too much there. Lots of people with souls love, but he's special. It's like he loves with all of him. I saw him when Angelus had you. He was lost. That was real. The most real thing I've ever seen."

Buffy had listened. She realised as she heard the words, that her fear of never seeing Spike again was the lesser of her fears. The main fear was that, without her soul, he would be unable to love her. She knew that regardless of what he became, she would continue to love him. It wasn't death she feared, it was life, with him in the world, but not loving her. 

Somehow Emily's words gave her hope. They struck a chord with her as she realised she believed the same things. Deep down, so deep she hadn't seen the thoughts for a long time, she realised they were there, held close to her heart. Spike loved her. It wasn't just the soul. They would both come through this, and even if he changed, what they had would still be special. It might be different, but it would still be theirs. She sat up straighter, determined to do whatever had to be done.

The drive took some time. The reconnaissance done by Small's teams hadn't done too much good, but it had pointed out areas of high hermaphrodite activity. Seeing no need to court trouble, they avoided these areas.

Small was worried. They had brought everything they had, but he knew they were on a suicide mission. To some extent, that was the case whenever a hit team was sent out. It was common practice to make sure your affairs are in order before the mission. Yet, he was experienced, he had been on many missions, and he had returned. Until now. He remembered with a shiver the fate of Mullaney. His orders regarding his own men were to kill any known to have suffered similarly.

The aim of the mission was simple. They had to do everything they could to make sure Buffy got to Sinistra. She was the only one who could succeed. The others were there simply to make sure she got the chance.

As soon as Buffy was clear of the basement, Alasdair moved towards Spike. The others had offered to draw lots to decide who went first, but Alasdair insisted it had to be him. After a good deal of argument, it was agreed that Grianne should be second, Giles' young daughter the reason for him taking the third, and hopefully, least risky, position.

Spike was howling and snarling. His demon face had appeared while Buffy was drinking, and it hadn't gone. The sound was at the same time pitiful and terrifying. He was a wild animal, and he was in agony. He strained constantly at the chains which held him in place, and his wrists and ankles were raw. If there had been blood in his body, they would have been bleeding freely.

To Alasdair, the walk across the room seemed incredibly long. Everything happened in slow motion. The creature in front of him bore no obvious resemblance to his friend, and his confidence was starting to ebb, but this was his role in the current apocalypse. Buffy would know if something happened to Spike. She could sense his pain even now, and the sooner it ended, the better able she would be to complete her task.

Although Spike couldn't free his hands to pull Alasdair to him, his arms were pulling the chains to their fullest extent. Unsure how to ensure success, Alasdair placed his head on Spike's shoulder, giving the vampire full access to his neck. He was afraid. His body was tense, as he felt the fangs sink into his neck. It was painful, but much less so than he expected. For some reason, he thought about being bitten by a blood-sucking insect. More often than not, they injected some sort of anaesthetic when they bite, so that the victim doesn't flick them away. Vampires don't do that. He could definitely feel it, but it was manageable. As soon as Spike's fangs were in, Giles had approached, taking Alasdair's wrist and checking his pulse. It was his job to judge when Alasdair had lost enough blood.

It didn't take very long. Spike's demon was drinking at an incredible rate. Within minutes, Alasdair was looking pale, and his pulse had increased alarmingly from its already high rate. This was the hard part. Giles moved around to be closer to Spike.

"It's time now, Spike. Let go of Alasdair, and you can drink from Grianne. Look, she's there, she's ready."

Spike's eyes had been closed, his entire being engrossed on pacifying his demon. They flickered open at Giles' words, but seemed unfocussed. Giles spoke again.

"Look, Grianne's here. You can have some of her blood too, just let Alasdair go." He felt like he was speaking to Lizzie, trying to reason with a small child. He kept the language simple and spoke slowly. This time there was a glimmer of understanding. He tried again.

"Let. Alasdair. Go. Drink. From. Grianne."

Hesitantly, Spike pulled his fangs out of Alasdair's neck. As soon as his mouth was free, the howling started again. Giles pulled Alasdair away, and Grianne took his place. She whimpered as the fangs pierced her skin, but managed a nod of reassurance to Giles as he took her wrist.

Alasdair had staggered over to a chair and sat with his head between his legs, willing the dizziness to leave him. They had left some vegetable juice on a table, and when he felt well enough he poured a glass, drinking it as quickly as he could. When he had drained it, Giles beckoned him over.

"It's time," Giles told him. "See if you can explain."

Alasdair approached Spike. "Spike, let Grianne go. You can drink from Giles now."

This time there was understanding immediately. Slowly, the fangs were pulled from the witch's neck, and she wobbled as Alasdair helped her to a chair. He poured her some of the juice, and went to look after Giles. They had bagged blood available too. He hoped there would be enough fresh blood to pacify the demon. Checking Giles' pulse, he found it slow and steady. He was surprised, because he knew his own pulse was racing before Spike started to drink. 

He kept his fingers on Giles' wrist, and looked at Grianne. She had a little colour in her face again, and smiled back at him. Giles' pulse was still steady, and Spike continued to drink. Alasdair glanced at his watch. He knew Spike had drunk from him for only about five minutes. If Grianne was there for a similar time,…. He realised with a start that Spike had already been drinking from Giles for much longer. The pulse was still steady, but Giles was looking very pale, paler than he remembered Grianne appearing. He was worried. 

"There's something wrong," he told the witch. He immediately moved around to Spike, asking him to stop. Giles took this opportunity to wrap his arms around Spike's neck, and Alasdair realised his knees were buckling. 

"Spike, stop, you've taken too much. Please, stop."

After what seemed an interminable age, Spike withdrew his fangs. Grianne was holding out a mug of blood with a straw. Spike started on this blood immediately. His body was still taut with pain, but he seemed less crazed.

When they had removed Giles' arms from around Spike's neck, it took all of Alasdair's strength to pull Giles over to the chair. He was barely conscious.

"I've got to get him to hospital." Grianne nodded as she held the mug close to the starving vampire. 

Afterwards, Alasdair had no idea how he had pulled Giles up the stairs. He was weak from blood loss himself, and Giles was heavy. Somehow, they made it to the only remaining car. 

It took another three mugs of blood, but at last, Spike's hunger seemed satisfied. His face reverted to its human form, but even that was barely recognisable. His face was still lined with pain. Grianne watched him closely.

"Is there something I can do?" she asked.

"Unchain me." The words were bitten out.

"Spike, you know I can't do that. I meant about the pain. Is there something I can do to help with the pain?"

"No. That will ….. go …… after a while. Just unchain me."

"Spike, I can't. You agreed. Until we know what's happened, you've got to stay here."

"UNCHAIN ME."

Grianne was worried. She hadn't expected him to be like this, not after he had allowed each of them to go when asked. She tried to remember a spell that would pacify him, but the blood loss had made her thought process too slow. While she was still desperately trying to think, she heard the sound of metal being pulled from the stone in the wall. Within two minutes, Spike had pulled himself free. Grianne moved away, walking backwards. Spike ignored her, moving to the key which had been left on the table. He unlocked the manacles, and left the basement.

Grianne ran after him. "Spike, come back. Don't do anything you'll regret. Remember Buffy. Please."

By the time she got to the front door, he was out of sight.


	24. Chapter 24 Going into Battle

Chapter 24 - Going into Battle

Angelus awoke and knew he was alone. His body was still wracked with pain from the abuse it had suffered in the previous twenty-four hours. His first lesson in being Sinistra's consort would probably have been bearable had his whole body not been suffering the after effects of Sinistra's punishment for his infidelity. The combination of the two had exacerbated the damage. In addition, he hadn't fed in far too long. He dragged himself out of the bed, disgusted to find himself in one of the ubiquitous translucent gowns which identified Sinistra's creatures. He managed to get to the door, and asked the minion outside to bring him food. He was relieved to find that several humans were delivered within minutes, and not at all disappointed that they were already unconscious. He **really** didn't feel up to playing with his food.

After an infusion of fresh human blood, his body's accelerated healing kicked in. The result was a temporary increase in pain, and he returned to the bed. He knew David was gone. He had felt it through the agony he suffered during his punishment. He had no particular feeling for his childe, but he still missed him. He had been his one ally in this new world which had turned out so differently from his hopes. He had no idea what had happened to Emily. He assumed she had been dusted along with David, but he had no link to her, and therefore didn't know.

He lay, his body immobile. He couldn't remember Sinistra leaving, and had no idea of when she would be back. He suspected he had eventually lost consciousness, several hours into his lesson. His mind was busy. He was desperate to find a way out of his current predicament. He could only think of two possibilities. The first was to make himself so indispensable to Sinistra that she allowed him greater freedom and power. The problem with that was that he had never been patient. He hadn't done a good job of impressing her so far, and he knew he had a lot of ground to make up. He wasn't even sure it was something he could achieve. His recent experience with her had shown him he had a lot to learn when it came to keeping her satisfied. Since Darla's demise, he hadn't had to consider another creature's pleasure, and remembering came hard.

The second possibility was to find a way to overthrow her. At first glance, that seemed even less likely, but he continued to consider possibilities. For the first time, he was glad it wasn't Buffy's blood which had opened the portal between the worlds.

Grianne was desperately trying to get in touch with Alasdair. She knew he had a mobile phone, but the system seemed to be out of commission, as it had been since Sinistra's arrival. She was worried about Giles. He had seemed perilously close to death when Alasdair had taken him upstairs. She thought about contacting Small, but immediately thought better of it. That group already had too much to do without worrying about Giles, …. Or Spike. Grianne was very concerned about Spike. He hadn't given any indication of his intentions when he left. There was nothing in his expression that gave any clue. In fact, there had been something different about him. He was still in pain, but even allowing for that, he was different. They had intended to keep the vampire in chains until Buffy returned. The fear that he was now devoid of restraint was uppermost in her mind. The fact that he had stopped feeding each time he was asked to boded well, but there was no way to be sure. The thought that he could be, even now, killing innocent people made her blood run cold. It would have been better, and kinder to him, to have simply staked him after Buffy had finished drinking.

Buffy knew when Spike's demon had been satisfied. She knew he was still in tremendous pain, but the overwhelming bloodlust, the unreasoning panic that had taken over his entire being had gone. She relaxed visibly when it happened. She didn't know if he was still her Spike, but he had survived the first part of his trial.

They had parked their vehicles about a mile from the castle. The streets closer to the latest addition to Sunnydale's skyline were full of hermaphrodites. Vehicles were not allowed closer. Their best chance of getting within striking distance of the seat of power was to be inconspicuous for as long as they could. The problem was, that it was difficult to be inconspicuous when armed with automatic weapons and flame-throwers. 

In the end, they got as close as they could, and when they were challenged, they started using the flame-throwers. These were a great deal more effective than the ballistic weapons against the hermaphrodites, but it wasn't the way the team would have chosen. The effect of flames on the hermaphrodites was similar to the effect on humans, and it wasn't pretty. Buffy thought as they watched four flaming demons streaking into the distance, that the robes they wore obviously hadn't been checked for fire resistance.

In fact her head was full of incidentals like that. The feeling she had had earlier of being no longer in command of her own body had returned to some extent. Small's team surrounded her and Emily. The two vampires were armed with swords. They walked in the centre of the group, as the others provided a path by destroying anyone who got in their way. She noticed the way the filmy gowns seemed to melt before actually burning. She noticed the screams of the burning demons seemed to be almost in harmony - as if there were two voices mingled into one, last, agonised sound. She noticed that the soulless humans didn't make any attempt to get out of the way of the flame throwers. They knew no fear. Stephen flanked the rest of the group, and had eschewed one of the more efficient weapons. No one had asked him to, but he had taken upon himself the job of killing the soulless quickly. The automatic rifle he used was very efficient. His face was grim as he carried out his task. It was the mask of someone who knows he has to do a job, but who wishes he could be anywhere else.

By the time they reached the outer ramparts of the castle, the density of hermaphrodites had increased to the extent that even the flame-throwers could no longer keep them at bay. One by one the men around her were touched by one of the strange male/female demons. One by one they had their souls wrenched from them, and they fell to the ground in a daze, their eyes empty of feeling. Each time, that empty look was quickly replaced by the stillness of death as Stephen carried out his allotted task. Buffy tried not to remember that she knew these men, but it was hard. She hadn't been close to any of them, but they were basically good men. They had some entrenched ideas when it came to vampires, but they were doing their best to deal with things for which they were not really equipped. 

When they reached the main door to the castle, Small was gone too, leaving only Stephen, Emily and Buffy. Stephen finished Small, then dropped his weapon, picking up Small's discarded flame-thrower. They continued through the corridors, Stephen now leading the way, with Emily following and giving directions. They were glad of the unadorned stone that surrounded them as they relied on flames as their one defence.

They hadn't gone too far when they started to be attacked from behind as well as in front. This slowed their progress, as Buffy and Emily had to fight. Their opponents were significantly stronger than normal vampires. Fortunately, both ex-Slayers had found that their preternatural strength had been added to their vampire strength, so they had an edge, but it was slight. Each fight hurt them, gradually eroding their reflexes as they grew more and more tired. When Stephen's flame-thrower ran out of fuel, he threw it away, stunning one of their opponents. It was a short-lived victory, because seconds later, another managed to get a hand on him, and he fell to the floor, screaming, before becoming unnaturally silent. 

Buffy managed to dispose of her current opponent, and fell on Stephen, remembering the mercy he had shown in dispatching the others. With tears in her eyes, she broke his neck, sure she saw a remnant of gratitude at the last instant, although she told herself afterwards that she had imagined it. It took a great effort of will to get up and carry on after that. It broke her heart to have to kill him. He was a friend, and he would be missed.

She and Emily were alone. The hermaphrodites continued to attack, and they were both tiring. Buffy instinctively recognised the proximity of another vampire, and realised it was likely to Angelus. She disposed of an opponent, and, seeing an opening, ran in that direction. Emily was hard pressed, but she was fighting well. Buffy knew she had to make it to Sinistra soon, or they would lose through attrition. A glance from Emily as she ran past showed her understanding.

Buffy's Slayer instinct drew her to an elaborately carved doorway, guarded by two of Sinistra' minions. It took some time, but she dispatched them by the simple expedient of removing their heads. Except it wasn't that simple. They were armed, and they were very fast. As soon as the second fell dead at her feet, she kicked open the door in front of her and entered a huge, ornate room. The most imposing feature of the room was the bed, and she instantly recognised its sole occupant.

Angelus sat up in surprise at her abrupt entry. He had heard the commotion from outside, but had decided to ignore it. His surprise at Buffy's entrance was genuine, but his mind immediately started to work on how to turn the situation to his advantage. He had no idea how she could have made it so far into the castle. She advanced on him, her face impassive, but her voice filled with venom.

"Where is she?"

Angelus didn't get the chance to answer, as Sinistra chose that instant to come up behind Buffy.

"I'm here. I must admit to being impressed. I never would have thought you'd get this far. My security staff has been most terribly remiss, and will have to be replaced. I must thank you for your efforts in showing up their inadequacy. But, you must realise that your little rebellion ends here. I am a god, and you cannot prevail against me. Prostrate yourself in front of me, and I may even consider using your considerable talents. My consort has been a terrible disappointment, perhaps I should replace him. Or, then again, I seem to have a vacancy for a security chief at the moment. Perhaps you would like to fill the position. Of course, your insolence will have to be punished first."

"I'm sorry," Buffy replied. "I can't say I'm on the look out for a new relationship at the moment. I'm quite happy in that department. And, not looking for a job either. You see, I'm the Slayer. It's a full time job, even though I've been on a prolonged holiday until recently. So, really, there's no reason I shouldn't just get this over with. You are going to die, or you are going to go back to where you came from. I would rather it was the first, because I had to kill a good man a short while ago, because of you. But, I'm a realist. I'll settle for sending you anywhere that isn't here."

"Foolish girl. You will learn. Suffer the pain of all who thwart me."

Sinistra raised an arm, and Angelus cringed, recognising the gesture as the one which pinned him to the wall to suffer the agony of her punishment. Nothing happened.

"So, you're going to wave your arms at me? Funny, I thought you had a bit more to offer."

Buffy advanced on the hellgod. Sinistra looked perturbed. She had repeated her gesture, and again it had no effect. She made the same movement a third time, this time directed to one of her minions who had burst in through the splintered door. This time, the minion crumpled onto the floor, her body spasming in pain.

For the first time, Sinistra registered a doubt. There was something about this creature. She was the one referred to in the prophecy. Something made her immune to the punishment that worked on human and demon alike. She shrugged away her doubts. It could make little difference. The girl was a vampire, and she was a god. A sword appeared in her hand, and she advanced on Buffy.

Sinistra had the advantage of reach and strength. Buffy was already tired. It should have been an uneven struggle, but it wasn't. Sinistra had relied on her other powers to maintain control over her minions, and had little experience with other means. Buffy was fighting, not only for her own life, but for her world. She had seen good men die in order for her to have the chance to put this right, and she put her heart, soul, body and spirit into the fight. As she fought, she became aware she wasn't alone. It was as if Spike was with her. She couldn't see him, but she felt him within her, his spirit suffusing her. His experience with a sword improved her skill. His intelligence, added to her own, allowed her to predict her opponent's next move.

As further minions arrived, they formed a circle around the battling pair. None dared get too close. The fight was moving so quickly, it would have been suicide to intervene.

Sinistra got the first hit. She caught Buffy on the arm, ripping open a gash several inches long. To the surprise of both of them, it healed, if not instantly, then at least visibly. For the second time, Sinistra seemed unsure. Her hesitation allowed Buffy to get in with a slash across Sinistra's chest. The blood that oozed from the wound was blue, and the hellgod looked at it as one who has never before seen her own blood. She rallied quickly, and the fight continued. 

It seemed to go on for hours. Buffy's arms were feeling leaden, but she had to carry on. She had been hit several times now, but each time, the wound healed quickly. Sinistra hadn't fared so well. She now sported a range of injuries, and her gown was tinged blue with her own blood. 

Buffy knew she couldn't last much longer. She couldn't get close enough to get in the one stroke she thought would be successful - a stroke to sever her opponent's head from her neck. Instead she managed to make a deep cut across Sinistra's front, starting at a breast, and ending close to the genitalia visible through the now shredded robe. She pulled back, determined to use the lull as Sinistra examined her wound to rest, when she saw the hellgod start to shake. It was as if she was fitting, but the look on her face was one of abject terror. The shaking increased in intensity, and to the amazement of the Slayer, her opponent's body started to break down the middle. It was as if there had been an invisible zipper there all along. Sinistra screamed with the half of the face she still controlled. The other half smiled, a smile filled with malice. That was the half that spoke.

"I thank you. You have weakened her sufficiently that I have been freed. For now, you have won. I would ask that you allow me to take my sister back to our own world. The alternative is that we both fight you. You may win, but you may not. It's not a risk I'm willing to take. If you let us go, we can continue our eternal struggle. And, who knows? Perhaps next time, it will be I that gain ascendancy."

When Buffy's reaction consisted of open-mouthed stupefaction, and Dexter took this as agreement. Holding his sister firmly in his grasp, he caused a chasm to open in the floor. Sinistra's half of the face was contorted with rage. "You," she screamed at Angelus. "If you had used this one to open the Hellmouth, I would have reigned here for eternity." 

When the chasm was complete, Dexter jumped into the depths, dragging his other half with him. Buffy didn't know how she did it, but at the last moment, Angelus was dragged off the bed, Sinistra's arm snagging him as she fell into the void. Angelus screamed - a sound of absolute despair, and the sound tailed off as he fell. The minions who had surrounded the fight started to follow, and it was all Buffy could do not to be crushed in the stampede. It took some time, but eventually she stood, in the ruins of the lavishly decorated room, alone.

Her thoughts immediately turned to Emily. She felt guilty for having left the other vampire, even though she knew she had no choice. She ran back along the corridors which were now devoid of Sinistra's creatures. She could sense something ahead, and she dared to hope that Emily had survived.

What she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. Two vampires, both horribly wounded lay on opposite sides of the corridor. One was Emily. She appeared unconscious, limbs splayed at unnatural angles as blood seeped from dozens of cuts to her body.

The other sight caused a gasp of absolute horror. It was Spike. She couldn't make any sense of how he came to be here, but that was a question for later. He had been injured as Emily had. His body was covered in wounds, but the one which held her attention was the piece of wood which protruded from his chest over his heart.

She ran to him. His eyes were closed, and there was no sign of life. Unsure what else to do, she pulled at the stake, hoping against hope that she wouldn't do more damage in the process. Logically she knew that, since his body hadn't dusted, the stake hadn't pierced his heart. What she didn't know was how close it was. She pulled gently but firmly, praying as she did. When it was out, she heaved a sigh of relief. The stake was short, and had barely made it past Spike's ribs. 

The castle was deserted. There was no sign of anyone. She started to look for someone, anyone, to help. She got as far as Stephen's body, lying where she had left it. She remembered he had had a mobile phone, so she looked for it. When she found it, she threw it away in disgust. It was broken, several components of it having parted company. She continued to run towards the exit, spotting Small lying half in sunshine, half in shade. She knelt down next to him, reaching out for his pocket, hoping his phone was in better condition. She pulled her arm back in alarm and pain as her skin started to smoke as it poked into the sunlight. Whatever Sinistra had done to the sunlight had reverted when she had gone. Buffy pulled Small's inert body into the shade, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

She tried the safe house first, hoping to speak to Giles. When Grianne explained what had happened, that Spike had escaped, she decided to call Alasdair. She eventually got through to him, but was immediately cut off as someone broke the connection. She screamed in frustration, and ran back to where she had left Emily and Spike. In the silence of the now deserted castle, she jumped visibly when Small's phone rang a moment later.

"Sorry, Buffy, the hospital staff made me switch it off. I'm outside now. Are you ok?"

"Yeah," she answered. "But, I need help. I'm at the castle. Sinistra's gone - I'll tell you the whole story later. Emily and Spike are here too, but they're both badly hurt. And, we're no longer immune to sunlight. I don't know how to get them out. The others are …. Dead."

There was silence on the other end for a few moments. Buffy asked the question she had to. 

"Grianne said you took Giles to hospital. What happened? She didn't say, just that Spike drank too much."

"Yes, but…."

"Is he … dead?"

"No, he'll be ok. It's his own fault. He used some meditation technique to keep his pulse steady even though he had already lost too much blood. It wasn't Spike's fault. I thought he was ok - his pulse was steady. Look, I'll come and get you, ok? I can come back and check on Giles later. He's had a transfusion, and he'll be ok. He just needs rest." There was a pause. "Wait, did you say Spike's at the castle? How did he get there?"

"Grianne said he pulled his chains out of the walls after you left. She doesn't know anything else."

It wasn't an easy task to get three vampires into the car without them combusting, but in the end they managed it. They drove through the streets of Sunnydale, its inhabitants too dazed by recent events to realise the nightmare was over. They were greeted by Grianne, who had been berating herself over Spike's escape. 

They made up a bed in the basement for Emily, and Buffy took Spike to their mattress on the floor. It took some time, but they cleaned their wounds, and splinted broken bones. Emily woke when they were finished. She seemed surprised to have wakened at all.

"What? Where? How?" she moaned quietly, unwilling to open her eyes fully.

"It's ok," Grianne soothed. "You're safe. You're at the safe house. Sinistra's gone."

It took some time for this to sink in.

"Gone? How? Did Buffy?"

"She sent her back. It's over."

Emily was silent for a few seconds, then tried to sit up quickly. "Spike? Where is he? He was there. I was going to die, I know it. There were so many of them. Buffy left, I know she had to, it was the only chance, and I was surrounded. Then, he was there. We fought back to back. Still outnumbered, still thought we were going to die, but …."

"He's still unconscious. Buffy found you together. How did he seem?"

Emily looked confused for a moment. "I … don't know. I mean, we didn't have the chance to talk."

Grianne stood up and went to let Buffy know Emily was awake. Spike was still unconscious. He had shown no sign of life. Buffy had helped to clean his wounds, and since then, had sat on the bed beside him, watching for any sign that he was still there. 

Alasdair had delivered the vampires and returned to the hospital. Giles, being Giles, insisted on discharging himself as soon as Alasdair returned, and despite the dire warnings of the hospital staff, the two men were back at the safe house within an hour.

Emily was up and hobbling about by the time they returned. Spike's condition was unchanged. The others had heard nothing from Buffy beyond short statements of what had happened, and she refused to leave Spike's side. Giles went and sat with her, holding her hand as she watched his unmoving form.

"What's happened?" she asked him. "He's hurt, but he should be awake. He was no worse injured than Emily. He should be awake and complaining right now."

Giles didn't understand any more than she did. "I don't know. I'm sorry. It could be … a side effect of losing the soul. All we can do is wait."

Buffy nodded, and leaned to kiss Spike's cheek, before lying beside him on the bed. The exhaustion she felt was starting to overwhelm her and she had to sleep. She curled herself against him, careful not to put too much pressure on his many injuries, and fell asleep.


	25. Chapter 25 Grief for the Fallen

Chapter 25 - Grief for the Fallen

The next morning, the survivors gathered in the basement to share their experience. Buffy had insisted she would not leave Spike, hence the location. His condition was unchanged. Before they began, they had a minute's silence for those who had been lost. Of all of them, Stephen was most sorely missed by those present, but all were remembered.

When they sat down, the mood was sombre. Grianne was the first to speak.

"I've been in touch with the Council. They want us to try to get the bodies of … the others repatriated. Their families have been informed."

Giles nodded solemnly. "I'll arrange that. I still have some local contacts, I think." He paused before getting on to the main business of the gathering. "I think it would be worthwhile going over everything that happened yesterday. I know we've spoken, and we've all got some ideas, but, for the sake of those who will have to report formally to the Council, I would suggest we do this in a logical manner. I will certainly be writing a report which I will leave for the new Slayer's Watcher when they arrive. So, can I suggest we start with what happened here?"

The various parties cast their memories back to the previous day. Buffy recounted her feelings while she drained Spike. It was hard to talk about it, almost as hard as it had been to actually do it.

Alasdair then described what followed - after Buffy and Stephen had left. "I was checking Giles' pulse as Spike drank. It remained steady throughout, even though his blood loss was severe. He admitted to me at the hospital that he had used meditation to keep his pulse steady."

Buffy had seemed to be elsewhere, but she looked up at that point.

"Why, Giles?" she asked. "Why did you do that? You could have died."

Giles looked embarrassed at the question. I .. er .. simply wanted to make sure Spike had enough fresh blood. I was concerned that three of us might not be enough. And, … and I trusted my friends to realise before things went too far. It was a risk, but it was calculated. The risks taken by others - Stephen, Small and his team, Buffy and Spike were all far greater."

Buffy could feel anger rising. "But Giles, think about Lizzie. How could you risk not going home to her?"

"The same way you could drain Spike. The same way he would have forced you to do it if that had been necessary. The same way I fought demons with you while I was your Watcher. Because I want Lizzie to grow up in a world which, while it's not perfect, at least is run by imperfect humans, most of whom are not actually evil."

The mention of Spike drew Buffy's eyes back to the open doorway at her side. Spike lay as she had left him. Giles noticed, and he felt his stomach knot in concern for them. He had some idea as to why Spike was still inert, and he was gravely concerned. He pulled himself back to the logical description of the previous day. "So, after Alasdair left to take me to hospital, what happened?"

Grianne took up the story. "Well, Spike drank a quantity of bagged blood. He seemed fairly calm, although he was in demon face. When he had had enough, he asked, then demanded that I unchain him."

Giles interrupted. "He spoke, then?"

"Just two words. 'Unchain me.' When I didn't, he pulled the chains from the wall, walked to the key and unlocked the restraints. He ran, and I had no way to follow."

It was Emily's turn to describe the events. She had expected Buffy to explain, but Buffy was too preoccupied. She described the walk to the castle. She told them how Stephen took pity on those who had already lost their souls. She explained that by the time they reached the castle itself, only Stephen, Buffy and she were still alive. She recounted with sadness seeing Stephen succumb, and Buffy's merciful dispatch of the man."

"Then Buffy left me. I know she had to. We were both getting tired. There were so many of them. And I thought, you know, when she left, that I would be finished soon too. There was no way I could hold them all off. And then, Spike was there. He threw himself on those who were attacking me, and decimated them. When he'd cut down the numbers a bit, we fought back to back. He was … amazing. He didn't seem to have any fear. He didn't speak, just fought. Why did he come to help me?"

Buffy's attention was back in full. Giles tried to answer the question. "There are a couple of possibilities. I believe, when he left here, he sensed that Buffy was upset or afraid. We know he can track her, and I think he was going to her aid. Whether he helped you because it was the only way he could reach Buffy, or whether he recognised something in you, I don't know. I believe Spike was acting on pure instinct. Vampiric instinct. He may have recognised you as family - you share a grandsire, after all. But, his main tie, is to his childe. His instinct would have recognised her need, and I believe that was his only thought - if, indeed, thought could be said to have had a role at all."

"So," Buffy had to ask. "Why is he … like that now?" She pointed at his unmoving form. "It's like he can't hear me. Like he's not there any more?"

This was the question Giles had been dreading. "Grianne, could your spell still be having an effect?"

Grianne shook her head. "I don't have up to date information on that spell, but everything I do have, insists the spell has to be repeated daily and ideally twice daily."

"I see. I don't have the answers, Buffy. But, let's try to look at this logically. The translation implied you would take more than the rest of your soul. It said you would take his spirit, his essence. If that was so, Spike, the Spike you love, may no longer be there. The demon recognises you as his mate. It recognises Emily as family. The characteristics that William brought to the entity we know as Spike may be gone."

"So, how do we get him back?"

Giles' shoulders slumped. "There are no guarantees, Buffy."

"**How do I get him back?"**

"Buffy, I …"

"Wait," she jumped up. "We could let him drain me. That would do it, wouldn't it?"

Giles jumped up to put a hand on her arm. "Buffy, no. I suspect the best we could hope for from that option would be to have you in Spike's current state, while he recovered. And I don't think he'd want that any more than you want the status quo."

"Then what?"

"Buffy, has he fed yet?"

Buffy looked at Giles as if he had gone mad. "Of course not, he hasn't moved."

"Well, I don't want him to drain you, but, if he could feed from you? Little and often would be best. Sire's blood would be more potent in terms of healing, of course, but childe's blood is almost as good. It will appeal to his instinctive needs too. It may even be that his spirit can return that way. I have no certainty at all, but I can't think of an alternative."

Buffy bolted for the stairs. The rest of the discussion would have to wait. She returned with a sharp kitchen knife. She sat herself down on the bed, and Giles sat on the other side of Spike. Giles raised Spike's head off his pillows, and Buffy calmly slit her wrist. She made sure there was a reasonable flow before putting her wrist close to Spike. For what seemed like eternity, there was no reaction. Then, at last, there was the merest twitch of his nose. A second later, the human face melted into the demon one, and Spike's fangs sank roughly into his childe's flesh. 

He drank frantically for several minutes before his face reverted, and he fell back onto his pillow, apparently asleep. Although her wrist must have been painful, Buffy's face seemed more peaceful than it had. To the surprise of those who watched, the knife and fang marks on her wrist healed in seconds. "That's what happened yesterday. Whenever Sinistra injured me, it healed, just like that. She didn't look happy about it. I've always healed fast, but not like that. Is it a side effect of draining Spike?"

Giles could hardly take his eyes off the unblemished skin which had so recently been a bloody mess. "It .. it could be. This certainly needs further investigation."

Feeling a little better, Buffy went on to describe her meeting with Sinistra and Dexter. "She tried waving her arm. I think it was the same as she did with one of her minions, and she was overwhelmed with pain. But it didn't work with me. Why wouldn't it work? She expected it to."

"That was the one hole in the plan. Although any Slayer turned vampire could open the portal, there was only one who could resist Sinistra's punishment. I don't suppose we'll ever understand why that was. It could have been the extra-strong soul, or something else you got from Spike. It could even have been something Buffy was born to do."

Buffy continued, describing the final stroke she delivered to her blood spattered opponent. "She looked at her injury, and then she just split in two. Like that icon you destroyed, Giles, only two of them. And Dexter offered to take her back. I was so surprised, I couldn't think of anything to say. Anyway, he opened up a chasm in the floor, and took Sinistra with him. But, she blamed Angelus for everything, so she took him too. I've got to say, he didn't look in too good shape when I arrived, and he **really** didn't want to go with her."

Something in Emily's face caught her eye. "What's the matter?"

Emily looked embarrassed at being noticed. It's just, well, I promised myself, if we got out of this, I would finish him. He … well, before Sinistra let me go, he … "

Buffy put a hand on hers. "We know. I saw how he treated Dru. We can imagine." Emily just nodded. Alasdair was watching her carefully, and Buffy noticed his face was indignant on her behalf.

Giles spent a good proportion of the next day persuading the local authorities to release the bodies of those Council members who had been killed, for repatriation. 

The news reports on the television told of an unknown disease which had hit the people of Sunnydale. The authorities, had explained it as an attack by someone with a grudge against the town who had spiked the water supply with a nerve poison. The victims had been rounded up and were being housed in a disused warehouse which had been made an annexe to the local psychiatric hospital. They were being kept sedated.

The dead were blamed on rioting caused by fear of the illness. As usual, the unexplainable was explained away. Nothing supernatural ever happened in Sunnydale, well, not officially, anyway.

Emily had recovered physically. Her emotional wounds would take longer. She had stayed in the safe house, having nowhere else to go. Her death had meant nothing to her father. Grianne had been back to visit him the day before, and had found little changed, except that there was more debris around the house. She had taken the girl's clothes before she had left. She had spoken to the local authorities, and they promised to look into his case as soon as their current backlog had cleared.

Emily herself was spending a lot of time with Alasdair. She didn't understand what drew her to him, but she found his presence calming. He didn't expect anything of her. He didn't treat her as a child. Grianne cared, but tended to fuss, trying to mother the girl, and that wasn't what she needed. Buffy was too preoccupied with Spike. She had been feeding him every couple of hours and spending the rest of her time close to him, sometimes stroking his hair, sometimes just holding him.

Giles had been hard pressed to explain to Jenny and Lizzie why he couldn't come home right away. He wanted to see them both so desperately, but he couldn't leave Buffy. Until they understood what was happening with Spike, he felt he had to stay and be there for her. 

It was the morning of the third day before there was any change. This time, when Spike finished feeding, he didn't go immediately to sleep. He lay in her arms as his demon face receded, and she was able to look into his blue eyes at last. There was no aggression, no fear. If she had to put a word to what she saw, it was trust. The only thing she could compare that expression to, was the absolute trust a small child has for a parent. After a while, he curled close to her and went back to sleep.

When she was sure he was sleeping soundly, Buffy crept from the room. Her wrist was healing already, although the rate of healing had been slowing each day since she had started to feed Spike. Giles looked up, pleased to see her. He saw her expression, and motioned for her to sit beside him.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"He stayed, well, awake when he finished. He just looked at me, as if I was the only thing in his world he could trust."

She started to sob, part relief, and part disappointment. Giles patted her awkwardly on her shoulder.

"It's early days, Buffy. I mean, waking up and feeding from you is a big step, isn't it? His injuries are healed now, aren't they?"

Buffy nodded at that, desperately trying to stifle the sobs which were shaking her body.

"Buffy, you have got to face the fact that, if you took his spirit along with your soul, he might never be 'your' Spike again. As he gets stronger, if there's only the demon left, he may even return to killing." It hurt Giles almost more than he could bear to remind her, but he didn't want her to have false hope. Her reaction cut into him like a knife. She jumped up, horror on her face. He continued, knowing he was being cruel, but feeling he had no option. "It may be that you can reverse the process by allowing him to feed from you, but it equally may not be possible."

Buffy moved away from him, physically distancing herself from the suggestion. "No, no, ….." She backed away further, knocking into another chair and sending it toppling over. "You're wrong. He is in there, or he will be. He just needs time. He just needs me."

They were both startled by the sounds emanating from the Spike. The vampire who had been silent for so long was howling. Buffy rushed to the door. Spike had fallen off the bed, and was lying on the floor, apparently desperate to find a way to get up. He was thrashing about and had opened several gashes on his arms. Buffy ran to him, but before she could even reach him, he stilled, becoming calmer. She picked him up gently, cradling him as one would a child. She crooned softly to him as she placed him back on the bed. She sat beside him, still crooning and stroking his hair until he went back to sleep.

When Buffy looked up at Giles again, her face was wet with tears. "You see, he is still there. He knows me. He knew I was upset. We've just got to find a way to reach him."


	26. Chapter 26 Casualty of War

Chapter 26 - Casualty of War

The following days progressed with little change in Spike's condition. He improved physically, and was soon awake for longer periods. He spent that time exclusively with Buffy. He was happier when he was in physical contact with her, but could cope with simply looking at her face. He seemed completely attuned to her moods, and became agitated whenever she was upset about anything. He seemed not to notice the humans, and paid only passing attention to Emily.

Giles was saddened to see how the situation took its toll on Buffy. She was exhausted. The period before the meeting with Sinistra had been anything but restful, and although her wounds from the battle had healed very quickly, they had still delved deeply into her physical reserves. She was terrified that she would never have her Spike back, but her love for him wouldn't allow her to take a break. The others had offered to restrain him so that she could get away for a few hours, but Buffy wouldn't listen.

They tried various things to bring him back. Giles had bought several CDs that Buffy had told him were Spike's particular favourites, and they made a point of watching 'Passions' when it was on. Spike had often told her he enjoyed the soap, and had missed it during their time in Scotland. Throughout it all, Spike remained fixed on Buffy.

He continued to feed exclusively from his childe. Her wrist was taking longer to heal after each feed, and as the days had went on, she hardly needed the knife to reopen the cut each time. Despite the fact that the only time she had tasted human blood was during her time with Angelus, Giles managed to obtain some bagged human blood from a local dealer. He knew it was more efficient at replacing what she was losing daily than animal blood.

On day six, the call from London which they had been dreading came through. Grianne was needed in London immediately. Alasdair was still technically responsible for monitoring Spike and Buffy, so he could remain for the time being. The witch packed reluctantly, wishing she could stay until Spike was better, but the Council was adamant. 

Giles had agreed to take her to the airport, and stood waiting at the door for her to make her goodbyes. She hugged Alasdair and Emily first. As had become their custom, they were together. When she approached Spike and Buffy, she held out her arms, and Buffy ran into the other woman's embrace. A low growl came from Spike at the sight, and Buffy put a pacifying hand on his arm as she said her goodbyes.

"I'll send you anything I find that might help with Spike's condition," she promised. Buffy only felt able to nod, and Grianne and Giles left.

Spike was still agitated when they had gone, and Buffy took him downstairs, determined to calm him down. She suspected he was reacting to her sadness as much as to the physical contact between her and Grianne, but she knew the best way to fix that. After shutting their bedroom door, she removed his clothing, and followed with her own. She guided him to the bed, and they lay together like that. The skin to skin contact immediately removed his agitation, and he was peaceful again. Unfortunately, that same contact had a different effect on Buffy. Physically, he was her Spike, and her body was apt to react to his as it always had, but Spike showed no recognition of that aspect of their relationship. She forced her mind empty, and after a while, she slept.

She dreamt of home. It was as she remembered it. She and Spike were walking by the lochside, talking and laughing as they had so often done. Her heart was light. They were together, and everything was right in her world. When they stopped in the cave they had used when they first arrived, they swam in the pool there. As had always happened in real life, the swim led to love making both in and out of the water. It was a happy dream of happy times, and the emptiness she felt when she awoke was worse than ever, because she was beginning to doubt she would ever be happy again.

The house was quiet. Spike was still asleep. She wondered if he was dreaming, and if he was, what form his dreams were taking. She wished she could share the dream she just had, so that he could remember the happy times too. She sat up in bed, stroking his hair as she did so. This part was familiar. While he slept, she could pretend that nothing had changed.

Emily upstairs, sitting in a comfortable chair. She was alone, and that was how she wanted it. She had to decide what to do. It hadn't been her choice, but she was now immortal. She had a soul, and she had no inclination to kill. 

She had been drawn to Alasdair from the first time she met him. There was something about him that bespoke dependability. He was solid. He was there. He seemed to like her too. But, she had made so many mistakes in her short life. Her father had let her down. She knew that wasn't his fault, that he had lost the rest of his family and blamed himself for it. 

Then, there was Michael. The whole 'being the Chosen One' thing had changed her life forever. It made her special. It gave her a role. She had enjoyed the time she spent with her Watcher. He listened to her. He advised her. He taught her. In a life without a real friendship for comparison, she had assumed he was a friend. Yet, as soon as she was in trouble, Michael had packed up and run away. 

Then there was David. He killed her, and made her a vampire. He took her virginity, but did it in such a way that she really thought he cared. She had seen the way Spike cared for Buffy, and dared to believe she had found he own destiny. She had been so in awe of his tenderness, that she had been completely infatuated. Yet, even this had been entirely artificial. As soon as she had completed her task, David had changed. The time she spent with him and Angelus after Sinistra's arrival was a memory she wished she didn't have. She had been forced to do things she had never imagined, much less done. And that didn't count the things Angelus had done simply to give her pain. She shuddered at the memory.

Everything in her told her she could rely on Alasdair, but she was afraid. She had more in common with Buffy, but she knew the other vampire had enough to worry about with Spike without having a fledgling vampire on her mind. Giles was nice, but he had his own family. She knew Grainne wanted to help her, but Emily couldn't cope with the 'mothering'. Her memories of her own mother were special, and she didn't want her replaced in any way.

She considered starting out alone. The thought terrified her. The prospect of being alone left her feeling empty and afraid. She knew the others would be leaving soon, following Grianne back to Britain, and she had to decide what to do. Her inclination was to go there too - to go with Alasdair, but she wasn't sure he really wanted her.

Alasdair was sitting in his bedroom. Coincidentally, he was trying to sort out his own plans. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was recalled. He hoped it would be follow Buffy and Spike as they returned to Scotland. He had lived in London before, but was much happier at home. The problem was, that he would miss Emily. At first, he had seen her as a girl in need of help. She had been abused by those she trusted, and he just wanted to help. 

As the days passed, he realised she was much, much more than that. He felt himself falling in love with her, but was desperate to avoid the thoughts that came with the feeling. He kept telling himself, that compared to his own twenty-nine years, she was a child. She had suffered so much in her short life, and he was going to make sure he didn't add to her suffering. Therefore, he had decided to say nothing of his feelings. The problem was, that he didn't want to be parted from her. She seemed to like him, and he liked to think that she relied on him. He felt naturally protective of her, and he was afraid of how she would manage without him. In the end, it was this feeling that decided his actions. Before he could change his mind, he went to find her. 

She was lolling in a chair. Something about her posture made her seem even younger than her seventeen years. He almost changed his mind about saying anything. He paused, then noticed her face. She looked worried. She looked lost. He steeled himself.

"Emily." She looked up, her frown melting to become a smile as she did so. "What're you doing?"

"Thinking," she replied.

"That's what I've been doing. The thing is, I'm going to have to go back soon. I hope I'll be going back to Scotland, but the Council might want me in London. I don't know if you've got any plans, but if you haven't, I want you to know, you'd be welcome to come with me. My croft's not too big, but there are two bedrooms. We can decorate it any way you want. If I have to live in London, I'll rent a flat big enough for both of us. Same deal. I … I understand if you want to do something else, it's just, .."

"No," she interrupted. His face fell. "I mean, no, I haven't any plans. I'd like to see your home. Really. If you're sure I won't be in the way?"

His face lit up, and his shoulders visibly relaxed as she spoke. "You could never be in the way."

Giles was on the phone. He had continued his habit of phoning Jenny twice a day.

"So, when will you be home?" It was always the first thing she said.

"I don't know yet, I'm afraid."

"But, Rupert, it's all over now. Isn't it? Or is there something you're not telling me?"

"No, it's just the same as I told you. I'm worried about Buffy. You know, I let her down before, I can't do it again."

"Rupert Giles, you did no such thing. You've never let her down, and if I know Buffy, I'm sure she would say the same thing."

"She does, but …"

"But nothing. I understand that she needs help. Really I do. But, we need you too. Say, why don't you bring her here? We've got room, she and Spike can stay here until things get better."

"Jenny, I'm not sure things are going to get better. He's just the same. He's totally dependent on her, but it's all one way. He's just not there any more. It's breaking her heart, and it's so hard to watch."

"So, bring her home with you. I'm sure she'd appreciate a woman to talk to anyway, and Lizzie could help take her mind off things."

"Jenny, we don't know how things will work out. Spike hasn't got a soul now. Its possible he could go back to feeding. He growled at Grianne because she hugged Buffy before she left. He's a vampire, and he's got no restraint. I'm not sure I want him in our home. If something happened to you or Lizzie, …"

"Ok, not here then. But, remember we need you too. We love you."

A small but insistent voice was then heard in the background.

"Is that Daddy? I want to talk to him. Please?"

There was some muffled conversation and Giles heard his daughter's voice. "Daddy, when are you coming home? I miss you, and we've got a surprise, but I can't tell you. You'll have to wait until you get home. It's really exciting, and you're going to like it a lot."

Giles heard the phone being pulled from the child's hand, then Jenny's voice. "Rupert, she wasn't supposed to tell you that. Look, just come home, please?"

After he hung up, Giles knew Jenny was right. His place was at home with his wife and daughter. He just wasn't sure how to tell Buffy.

Later that evening, Alasdair and Giles were eating. Buffy and Spike joined them for the company if not the food. Although Spike had always enjoyed human food, it currently didn't interest him, but Buffy enjoyed the company, and nibbled a bit while the men ate. As always, Spike was at her side, not touching this time, but keeping his eyes on her face. Emily was sitting there too, but she was just watching Alasdair.

Giles knew by the way she was toying with her food, that Buffy had something on her mind. "What is it Buffy?"

"Giles, I want to go home."

Giles exhaled slowly. He had been wondering how to tell her he had to leave. "Good," he began. "We'll go back to London, and I'll find you somewhere to live, close to us, and .."

Buffy interrupted. "No, Giles, I want to go home. London or wherever you live isn't home. I want to go to our home - Spike's and mine."

"But, Buffy, how will you manage? I mean, Spike's taking all of your time."

"I'll manage. We've got some savings, and we don't really need a lot. I'll be ok. I've got to do it some time. If Spike's not going to get better, I've got to get on with things some time. And if he is, then the place he's most likely to get better is there, where everything's familiar."

Giles started to argue, when Alasdair interrupted. "Don't worry, Giles. I'll be close by. I'm going back too, and Emily's agreed to come too. We'll both help in any way we can."

Giles looked as if he wanted to disagree, but his daughter's pleas for him to come home were too fresh. "Ok, but I'll see you settled first, before I go south."

The meal continued in silence. Giles finished and pushed his plate away, sitting back as he did so. "How are you going to do this?" he asked Buffy.

"How did you get Spike here? I came in a coffin, but I'd rather not do that again."

"Spike came as cargo. We could do the same again, but how would we keep him quiet? Last time, Grianne did a spell, but she's gone."

"It wouldn't make any difference. I wouldn't let her do another spell on him. His spirit's hardly in residence as it is, and I'm not putting him at risk again. You'll have to send us together. I'll keep him quiet. Just make sure we have some room to move."

"How do you want to fly back? We can do it in a couple of hops if you want. Stop over in New York or Boston, or we could fly direct to London - or Glasgow if you prefer."

"I think direct to Glasgow would be best. Depending on how that goes, we could either drive the rest of the way, or fly to Inverness."

"Are you sure, Buffy? That's a long time to be in a confined space. You don't know how he'll react."

"He'll be fine, Giles. Just as long as I'm ok."

She turned to face Spike, her lips curving to make the smile she reserved for him. Her fingers traced the contours of his face and she saw his otherwise expressionless face smile back. It was fleeting, but she was sure she hadn't imagined it."

"Did you see that?" she almost shouted, startling Spike as she turned back to Giles. Giles shook his head. "He smiled at me. It was there and gone, but he smiled."

Everything was arranged. The three vampires were being crated before all five travellers left for the airport. Emily could hardly contain her excitement. She had never been abroad before, and she was beside herself. She was packed with some music and headphones and a reasonable supply of blood.

The other crate was necessarily bigger. Spike had climbed in only after Buffy had made herself comfortable. They also had music and blood packed, and Buffy had her knife, just in case. She hadn't had to use it for a while, and had simply had to offer her wrist to Spike for him to feed. If he became agitated during the flight, she wanted to be able to entice him to feed even if he wasn't particularly hungry, because of the comfort it would bring. Undressing both of them in the confined space was likely to be too difficult, and dressing again before the crate was opened absolutely impossible, and that was the only other thing she knew that worked. 

It was hard work. Buffy had dredged her memory for every meditation technique Giles had taught her while she was the Slayer. It was essential that she stay calm, because the easiest way to panic Spike was if she was upset. She was relieved when, a couple of hours into the flight, Spike fed from her and promptly fell asleep. She grabbed some of the bagged blood, and downed it quickly. The blood was packed in insulated containers in case it froze during the flight. Buffy didn't fancy frozen blood anyway, and wasn't sure how she would eat it anyway. It was cold in the cargo hold, and her body temperature was too low to melt it quickly. She huddled close to Spike, and joined him in sleep.

Long hours of crooning to Spike had taken their toll on the Slayer's voice. She was sure she wouldn't be able to speak for weeks. At last, light flooded into the crate as the lid was prised off. Spike stiffened, and she put her hand on his arm to reassure him. She stood up and he followed, but it was obvious he was at his wits end. He was shaking, and Buffy pulled him close to her. They were in a hotel room. Buffy didn't know how they had managed to get a great heavy crate into a hotel room, but she decided not to ask.

"What's the matter, Buffy? Has he been like this for long?" Giles was concerned.

"No, it's just the last part of the journey - being thrown around by the handlers and everything. He'll be fine, I think. It's just, can you leave us? It's easier to settle him when we're alone. What room are you in? I'll give you a call when he's settled, and we can talk about what we do, but I think I can safely say that I don't think I ever want to see the inside of a crate again."

When Giles had left, Buffy undressed them both and they lay together on the bed. She was silent, but let her hands reassure him as they stroked his arms, shoulders and back in strong, circular movements. She was surprised when he reciprocated, stroking her arms gently before falling into a peaceful sleep.

It was the first time he had initiated contact for anything other than his own security. Despite the tension it had left in her body, Buffy felt more hopeful than she had for a while.

They were on the road early next morning. The weather was overcast and there were regular heavy showers. Spike seemed more peaceful than he had before the flight. He paid very little attention to what was going on outside the car, his eyes as always on Buffy. Emily was the exact opposite. She asked questions continually. Giles and Alasdair were hard pressed keeping up with her.

Once they were through the industrial belt, the weather cleared, and the roads were quieter. They stopped rarely, just often enough to allow the humans comfort breaks. It was still full dark when they approached the croft.

Spike's attention had gradually been transferring to the outside of the car the closer they got. Giles looked back from the driver's seat as he stopped the car. "Wait here until we've checked the place out."

Buffy nodded, and Giles, Alasdair and Emily got out.

The front door was closed, but unlocked. The damage done by Angelus when he had kidnapped Buffy was obvious. Curtains had been slashed, and crockery thrown about the room. The three set to work, doing their best to clear away the most obvious damage. The last thing they wanted was for Spike to be upset by memories of that. It wasn't a good job, but they did enough to cover the worst of the damage. They found some blankets and used them to cover the windows in the living room and the main bedroom. When they were sure everything was secure, Giles went to get settled in the second bedroom, and Alasdair and Emily went out to let Buffy know. They still had a half hour drive to Alasdair's croft, and they wanted to get there. Emily might not mind, but Alasdair was keen to get the place warmed up before it got any later. The night was clear, and there was already a frost forming. It was only going to get colder as the night went on.

The car was empty when they got back there. Alasdair was initially worried, but Emily spotted the other two in the distance. They were standing on the lochside, watching the water. 


	27. Chapter 27 Home

Chapter 27 - Home

Spike had made the first move to get out of the car. He had become more and more interested in his surroundings the closer they got to home. While this was a pleasant surprise considering his recent Buffy-centric behaviour, Buffy was concerned. She followed, keen to keep him out of the croft until the others had finished. In fact, he ignored the house, and walked slowly towards the water. When she caught up, his arm snaked around her waist in a gesture so familiar, she almost missed the significance. He had been in physical contact with her almost constantly since he came round after his battle with the hermaphrodites, but this was different. This contact was about being together as equals, as partners. She wormed herself closer, and put her arm round his waist, hooking her thumb through the belt loop of his jeans as she had done so often before. 

They walked and watched for some time. The air was clear and crisp, and the grass close to the loch was already speckled with frost. The stars seemed unreasonably bright after the skies of southern California. It was almost possible to forget they had ever been away.

Some time later, without discussion, they both knew it was time to go back. As they turned to go, Spike put his hand out to Buffy's face, holding it so he could look at her carefully, then he said one word, "Home."

"Yes, Spike," she whispered in answer. "We're home." She put her hand up to his face and traced his cheek with her finger. "I love you."

He didn't answer, but closed his eyes as her finger stroked his cheek, almost as if he was concentrating on the memories evoked by the gesture.

Giles was already in bed when they returned. They went to their room where they got ready to sleep. Once they were in bed, Spike's face changed, his eyes changing from blue to gold. At first Buffy assumed he was hungry and wanted to feed, but he ignored her proffered wrist. Then she realised what he wanted. She offered her neck, and his fangs grazed the skin, but he didn't bite. She knew from the position of his head what he wanted. She allowed her demon mask to emerge, and placed her fangs on his neck. As one, without prompting, both bit into the other's neck and drank.

Buffy was quickly lost in the sensation. She knew Spike was drinking very slowly. This wasn't about hunger, it was about comfort and intimacy and more. She was struggling to take it slowly. She had been starved of his blood for too long. Added to that, their physical contact had been so frustratingly chaste that she was barely in control of her demon. 

As his blood flowed into her, one need was fulfilled and she slowly regained some control, but this only made her even more aware of her other needs. It was only when they both withdrew their fangs, that she realised he had reacted to her too. They both reverted to their human faces, and Spike stared at her for several seconds before he uttered his second word. "Buffy." Then he kissed her, and the kiss grew and ignited both of them.

When Giles first realised what was happening in the next room, his first reaction was relief. He knew from things Buffy had let slip, that Spike hadn't reacted physically to her since she drained him. His second reaction was an increase in his need to get home. It had been too long since he had seen Jenny. Several hours later, he just wished he could leave, but the only transport available was Spike's elderly Land Rover and that had been lying idle for weeks. The noises from the next room seemed likely to go on all night. There were pauses, but they weren't nearly long enough to let him sleep. He pulled a pillow over his head and turned over, determined to block out the noise.

It was very early when Giles gave up on sleeping. It was still dark, and the croft was cold. Wrapping himself in several layers of clothing, he went into the living room. Fortunately, there was a reasonable supply of wood and coal inside, and he managed to light a fire in the grate. He then headed for the kitchen to make some breakfast. While he understood that two vampires didn't need it, he wished heartily for the simple comfort of central heating. He found some tea and made some porridge. There wasn't a lot of food in the kitchen, but there were tea bags and oatmeal. He grimaced at the taste of tea without milk, and made a mental note to put that right later. The porridge was made in traditional style, with only water and salt added.

Having warmed up the house reasonably, he decided to check out Spike's car. It lay where Spike had left it, about fifty yards from the croft. The battery was dead, but he found a charger in the back. By mid morning, the battery was recharged, and the car stuttered into life. Leaving a note for the two vampires, he set off to find some supplies.

It was mid afternoon before Spike woke. Buffy was still asleep, and he lay close to her, watching her eyes flickering as she dreamed. When her eyes opened at last, the first thing she saw was him, watching her. She smiled, and this time there was no doubt. He smiled back.

Later that evening, Spike went outside alone. Buffy could just make out his form, sitting on a bank a few hundred yards from the house. She and Giles were clearing up after a meal, and they worked for a while in companionable silence. 

"How is he?" Giles asked at last. 

"Better," Buffy answered. "It's as though he feels more secure here. In Sunnydale, he had to keep me close to be sure I was real, but here, he knows I'm not going anywhere."

Giles put down the tea towel, and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He started to clean his glasses, and Buffy recognised the signs.

"What's up?"

"Buffy, did he … hurt you last night?"

"No, why .." She stopped when she noticed him looking at her neck. Her fingers absently traced the marks left by Spike's fangs, the memories of the previous night flooding back, causing her to want a repeat.

"No, he didn't hurt me. I fed from him too. It's been so long, I needed to do that. Did you hear …."

"Buffy, I have ears. Of course I heard."

She started to apologise, but he broke her off.

"It's ok, Buffy. I'm not saying I wouldn't have preferred not to hear, but it's your home. I'm just concerned. If Spike is improving, you've got to remember that he has no restraint now. Even if he makes a full recovery, he may not be your Spike. If he hurts you, I will have to rethink my promise not to stake him."

"Giles, you're wrong. He is getting better. He will be my Spike again. And he won't hurt me. I don't expect you to believe that, but I do. And, in time, you'll see."

Giles nodded, but Buffy knew he was unconvinced. "Listen, I can look after myself, and I can look after him if I have to. But, soon, I won't have to. We'll be back to looking after each other."

Giles stayed only a couple of days. Spike was still silent most of the time, but he was spending more and more time being largely independent. He took on the jobs he had always done without comment. Giles was still concerned about Buffy, but she assured him that she was more hopeful than ever. She saw every tiny improvement in Spike's condition as a major triumph. She was sad to see Giles go, but he promised to bring Jenny and Lizzie up for a visit 'when things were back to normal', and Buffy knew that was the closest she would get to his sharing her confidence. Buffy was still sad but relieved when Alasdair drove him to the airport.

He and Emily had been living quietly since they got back, making the most of the unusually clear weather. He hadn't heard from the Council of Watchers, and was relieved.

Alasdair and Emily became regular visitors to Loch Maree, and Buffy appreciated their company. Despite his improvements, Spike was still monosyllabic , and it was a relief to have other company. She knew too, that it was good for Spike to mix with others, and she also felt that Emily needed female company. 

As the weeks went by, Spike started to talk more. It took a while before he tried to explain how things had been for him. It started with simple things, the phrases of everyday life. The first time he was able to tell Buffy he loved her was particularly memorable. He still became withdrawn when anyone else was around, but when they were alone, he tried to explain how he had felt. One evening, they sat in the croft, listening to the wind and rain outside. The fire gave comfort, and the two vampires were sharing the settee.

Buffy had just described to him the events leading up to the meeting with Sinistra. Some of it was familiar to him, but other parts seemed nothing to do with him. The aftermath of being drained was particularly painful.

"It was like a nightmare," he remembered. "There was pain. It was everything, and it didn't leave room for thought. When it receded enough, the first thing I remember, was panic. I was so scared for you. I didn't know why, but I felt your fear. And there was more than that. I felt your sadness. Then, there was nothing. I don't remember the fight, I just remember waking up, and everything was alien - except you. That's how it was for a long time. You were the only thing in my world. Knowing you were safe was all that was important."

Buffy moved closer to him, and he responded by accommodating her.

"It's a strange feeling. Simple. There was no thought, just feeling. Thoughts are still … hard."

"Doesn't matter. I can think for both of us." Buffy smiled up at him.

"Don't think so, Love. Never know what sort of trouble you'd get us in to."

She grinned back at him, and he pulled her face to his. They kissed. When he pulled away, his face was sad.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"It's just, I feel like we've, no, I've wasted our time together."

She shook her head. "Spike, time spent with you isn't wasted. And anyway, we've got forever."

He returned her smile then. "That we have, Love."

__

Ok, people, that's it. This saga seems to have taken a long time, and I'd like to thank those of you who've stuck with it from the beginning. Your reviews (especially Tuowei on BS Central) have kept me going when I wasn't sure about whether to continue. It's a pity most of her reviews were lost when B/S Central changed server, they're almost a companion to the story. The last two chapters were originally meant to be one, but I felt I was skimming, or leaving some of the characters high and dry. I've got some ideas for a sequel, but I also want to think about a season seven start, so I'm not sure which say I'll go.

If you haven't reviewed before, (or even if you have ), now would be a good time to tell me what you liked (or didn't) about the story. If you'd prefer to comment 'in private', my email address is cryptic6464@yahoo.co.uk_ ._


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